Against Protocol
by Caffeine High
Summary: To finally get rid of that pest Morpheus, Smith finds himself the perfect candidate for extrication from the Matrix. It's all a matter of leading her to believe his story before she causes him to blow a circuit.
1. What is this? Doctor Phil?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Matrix.

Okay, so I was tired of reading really sad Agent Smith stories (yeah I am guilty of that too), so I made this. I tried to keep him as in character as possible (tell me if he's not). Please review with suggestions and all that. I have many more chapters planned. Tell me what you think!

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Humans.

How he hated them.

Their stench seemed to stick to everything.

That odor. That horrible smell he couldn't free himself from.

Even here, surrounded by other Agents, the smell lingered. Like germs. Mimicking the parasites they came from.

Humans.

Agent Smith hated them.

He had just returned to the main headquarters after a brief run-in.

Since the "revolutionaries" were being quiet, temporarily out of the Matrix with their leader Morpheus, there wasn't much for him to do.

He had gotten bored. It was against protocol, but yes, he had attacked a group of men. He had found them in an alley, attacking some female.

_Pathetic. When the males cannot gain the courtship of the females, they try to force it._ Agent Smith contorted his face from its permanent frown, to a look of scorn.

There had been seven of them. He heard her scream, and had killed them for the sport of it. It's not like there was anything else for him to do.

He hadn't killed her. The woman with the business suit (someone of her "class" usually didn't go wandering through alleys…but the humans never failed to amaze Smith with their stupidity) and the reddish brown hair was still alive.

The look of horror on her face had amused him enough to spare her pathetic existence. Even if he had tried, he was ordered back to headquarters before he could think of a way to get rid of the young woman.

Why did those viruses care so much about what they looked like? All of them were the same. The same filthy beings with no purpose other than to destroy everything in sight.

Agent Smith was at the large white desk, monitoring everything going in and out of the Matrix. No sign of Morpheus or the others in his band. It was unlike him to be out of the Matrix for so long.

Without them, there was no one to fight who could compare. If he could "love" anything, he would love fighting. The feel of power over those disgusting creatures. The feeling of control. Knowing no matter how fast they try to run away, he was faster. No matter how strong they were, he was stronger. He had never met his match in any of them.

A smirk spread over Smith's face. He really was better than any of the others. The perfect Agent.

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_One week later._

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_What am I doing here? What am I doing here? Am I crazy? This is stupid._ She flustered herself. Trying to think carefully, tapping on the steering wheel, biting her lip, and glancing up at the tall, shiny, professional looking building.

_C'mon, don't be chicken. It's not like you're breaking the law or anything._

She nodded, confirming this to herself, and stepping out of the car, her reddish brown hair falling around her shoulders untidily.

She pulled her purse up further on her shoulder, walking with a determined step through the glass doors, and to the front desk. "Hello, I'm—" she began to the man in the black suit, with an earpiece and dark sunglasses.

"Do you have an appointment?" the man asked without looking up.

"Uh, no, but I was here to see a—" She glanced at the note she'd made herself in the small little notepad from her purse.

"No one goes upstairs without an appointment." The man was still staring at his computer, ignoring her, practically saying "go away, we don't want you here."

She hissed in a breath through her nose, annoyed most thoroughly by this man. "I need to see a 'Mr. Smith'," she stated angrily.

The man paused his scrolling of the mouse, and turned his head towards her. "Mr. Smith?"

"Yes," she answered still fuming.

His forehead puckered, suggesting under his glasses he was scrutinizing her. "Why?" he asked.

"I have information he wants to see. He has to see it right away or—" she started her lie.

"Floor ten," the man told her, turning back to the screen.

She nodded, surprised that line worked.

As she turned towards the elevator, she noticed him touch his earpiece, saying; "Agent Smith? There's a woman here to see you."

She stepped in the florescent-lit elevator, holding her purse with both hands, and glancing around the empty box. There was something very strange about this building…

The bell _dinged_ and she stepped out of the elevator into a hallway. All the wooden doors were closed, with little black signs on each. She read them as she passed. 'Agent Jackson', 'Agent Brown', 'Agent Murphy', 'Agent Gray', 'Agent Jones'…what, did no one have a first name here?

Finally, she came to the door that read, 'Agent Smith', and breathing deeply once, knocked.

"Enter," came a steady voice.

She did. At the white desk with nothing but a computer and a phone was the man who'd saved her. He was wearing the exact same thing, down to the glasses and hairstyle.

As soon as he saw her, his brow became rigid, he glared, and his mouth contorted in a deep, menacing frown.

"Um…hello," she tried at a conversation. "Do you remember me? I was the one…um…" The way he was glaring at her, even under those dark glasses, made her take a step back. He looked so furious she could feel her knees shake.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, standing up.

She tried to speak, her throat going dry with nervous fear, so threw a thumb over her shoulder as an explanation. "I…I asked around…I found out you worked here and—"

"Leave. Now," Mr. Smith hissed at her in that peculiar way he spoke, sitting back down, obviously trying to control himself.

"I just came to thank you." She took three brave steps forward.

Mr. Smith's head turned to her slowly, and he took his glasses off to glare at her with beady-little bright blue eyes. "I won't ask you again." He sneered, but she forced herself to ignore it, stubbornly pulling the chair sitting opposite him across the desk out, and sitting down.

"Good." She was determined not to be intimidated by this man, no matter how intimidating he really was. Agent Smith pulled his head back when she sat down, like she had a foul smell. Pursing his lips tightly, he turned to his computer, punching in something to the keyboard. "I came here also…to invite you to go for a drink."

Mr. Smith's head turned just as slowly as the man downstairs, and for the tiniest moment Elise was almost sure she saw the anger diminish…before it was right back in full swing.

"Ah. Relationships. Trying to free yourself of the fear of dying alone." He put both elbows on his desk, folding his hands like her father used to. "You fear dying without a partner, and so have become desperate."

She blinked at him, her mouth falling into a contortion of disgust, horror and bewilderment. Was this guy for real?

"It is a foolish thing, Miss…?"

"Roberts," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest, pulling her mouth closed, into an expression of annoyance.

"Miss Roberts," the man continued. "Billions of human beings strive for love and companionship in a world empty of meaning. It is that fear that drives humans, that fear of dying alone. I am not one of them." He smiled in a tight, pinched way. "That absurd belief that the company of another human can chase away the fear of death. Foolishness. Why? What good has _love _ever done you? What good has it ever done any human? What good has it ever done the world? Why bother? All it does is make people _weak_."

Mr. Smith continued, like he had been practicing this speech for a long time. "You probably want to be a mother, is that it?"

_Whoa, why is he talking about having children?_ Elise was beginning to be a little more than a little creeped out by this guy.

"What good is it, Miss Roberts? Do you gain _joy_?" he was raising his voice now. "Multiplying! Eating! Destroying! Humans are social parasites, sucking away the life of the world! You are a parasite, Miss Roberts!"

When she was fairly sure he was never going to stop, she raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side with curiosity at him. "Hang on…what does that have to do with anything? I was inviting you for a drink 'cause I'm new here, and needed to make a friend." She had only then realized just how desperate and stupid that sounded.

"A friend?" he asked unbelievingly.

"Yeah." She nodded, feeling very uncomfortable and awkward. "I am not asking you out." She grimaced at the thought. "Because, I see now," she waved her hands at him, "you, sir, are a weirdo, and kind of a freak. Really, I just met you, and you're talking about me wanting to have kids, and for some reason coming to you."

The man was stunned, and seeming to try and relieve the awkwardness, put his glasses back on, fiddling with her sleeves. "But you don't deny it."

She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips and flaring her nostrils. "I _do_ deny it. How do you even assume that?" She was beginning to get a little loud.

"Humans' need for companionship is just as hideous as their need for—" His voice told her another monologue was coming.

"Would you shut up?" she pleaded, very ready to leave this weird man's office. He reminded her of Scrooge, only more…evil.

"I have no friends, and am a friend to no one," he continued anyway. "Leave this building or you will be forcibly removed."

Elise was thinking security; Agent Smith meant killing the intrusive woman. _Really, is it so hard to put a bullet through her brain? _Smith wondered.

"You have no friends?" she questioned, finding that _very_ easy to believe.

"I am above you, and need no one. Leave this facility," he ordered again, pointing with his bony finger.

"That does sound like a pretty full life. No friends. No relations. No pictures hanging on your walls." She glanced around the room, her thin face turning into agreement, though she really didn't. "You must be a pretty happy person. How does it feel when you go to sleep every night knowing no one cares if you wake up or not?" she questioned.

He pulled his hand from below his eyes down his face. How could this woman be so exasperating? Why didn't he just kill her now? "I don't sleep." He glared at her. Determined to win this argument before he killed her. He was already itching towards his gun.

"Oh!" She smiled, like she was impressed. "Wow." She nodded. "That does sound like you have it all figured out." Her legs were crossed, her knees exposed and her hands laying lazily on them. "No one likes you, _and_ you don't have to sleep. How does _that_ feel?"

"I don't need to _feel._" He sneered at her. By now, he would have killed anyone, but was too engrossed in the argument to remember his gun. "All there is, is the next job." He glared at her.

"Oh yes, the next job." She nodded again, still smiling that snooty smile. "You're on top of your game, the prime of life, in the fast lane." She raised her eyebrows like this really was exciting news. "If you don't _feel_ anything, why'd you save me at all? You could've just walked by, but you killed them all," she challenged.

"I think you should leave now," he snarled, really loosing his temper with this infernal woman.

"Oh right, I have to let you get back to the only thing you do with your existence." She fluttered her eyelashes, standing up. "Have fun." She smiled wider, her mockery like acid in his code. She waved goodbye, but he wasn't about to let her off the hook just yet.

He was in front of the door before her, blocking her escape. "What good has all of this _love_ ever done you? The fourth finger on your left hand has a pale ring of skin. You were married once. What good did _love_ do you then?" he demanded.

"Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." She tossed her head to the side, keeping that annoying tone of mockery in her voice. "Besides, at least I'm happy with my life. What is your life like?" she questioned with fake sweetness.

Agent Smith's code had been written with pride. She was crushing that. Not because she was faster, or stronger, because she had infuriating responses. _Just kill her!_ he urged himself.

_Think of something to say back!_ another part yelled. He had never experienced that kind of clashing of what he should do. _No, win this argument, _then_ kill her._ That was more like him.

"Homo Sapiens," he muttered bitterly. "You're all such foolish wastes of life."

"Thanks!" Her smile spread from ear to ear. "I like you too." She was mocking him and he was letting her! What was this?

He was about to respond when the digital ring of a phone rang from the woman's purse. Turning away from him, she reached into her purse, answering the phone.

"Hello? Tina! Oh yeah…" she laughed. "I tried." She nodded, smiling. "Okay, meet you there." She closed the phone turning back to the man. "I have to go, but it's been fun," she continued to mock him. "I'm sure you won't even remember this conversation." (How infuriating her smile was!) "I'm sure what I've said will never make you consider gaining a personality." She smirked. "Where did I put my keys?" She put the phone down on the seat and began rummaging through her purse.

_Just shoot her!_

_Think of a comeback! You're being manipulated by this loathsome woman and look like a fool!_

His hand itched towards the breast pocket where he kept his gun, but she was gone before he could come to a decision. _Tonight._ He made up his mind. _Tonight she dies._

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So that's the first chapter...yea? Or nay?

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	2. Scrooge's Monologue

Still don't own Matrix.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Here's the latest chapter, tell me what you think!

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"He really said that?" Tina, Elise's roommate from college asked, baffled, as she giggled over her latte with a tone more suited to a thirteen-year-old than a twenty-seven-year-old.

Elise nodded. "Scrooge in the flesh." She'd been entertaining her three friends with the story.

Tina, Tina's sister Rebecca, and Jessica were visiting the city and crashing at Elise's new apartment for a few weeks. It made Elise's transition easier. The three of them had gone to college together in North New York, and had been like sisters. Then Elise had got married and moved to the city, Jessica had gone to Florida to open a boutique, Rebecca was still finishing graduate school, and Christina (or Tina) had wandered America until she had found, who Elise considered to be her soul mate, in Tina's fiancé Frank.

Elise had moved away from the city, to New Jersey three years ago when her husband James, of two years had...well...when they weren't married anymore. Elise got a new job, working for Microsoft in the city. Things changed for the other three, and, since Frank lived in the city (where he and Tina were going to be married), Rebecca's new school was twenty minutes away by bus, Jessica had declared bankruptcy on her boutique, and Tina needed a place to stay, all three of them had wound up moving in with Elise.

Not that Elise didn't like having her friends with her, she loved them like sisters...but they weren't exactly the easiest people to live with. But Elise couldn't just say they couldn't stay. She knew how much money Jessica had (none), and how good Tina was about working (she couldn't be interested in one job more than a few months) and how many fines Rebecca had for school (a lot). It was kind of nice too...like being in college again.

"If a guy said that to me, I'd spray him with mace." Jessica tossed her head to the side, making the others laugh. "Unless he was really hot." She gazed up to the ceiling of the '80's style diner they had agreed to meet at.

Rebecca snickered, being the youngest of them; she blushed the most, giggling at any word having anything to do with the looks of men.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I came, and I left. I hope I never see him again." Elise made a slash to end her memory of the man in the air.

"Hey Elise?" Tina asked. "Can I borrow your cell? I was going to call Frank and tell him to bring his brothers, I want you guys to meet." Tina's boyfriend of two years, and now fiancé, wasn't a nice guy, but Elise dreaded Tina's constant matchmaking. Just because she was single didn't mean she was desperate.

"Tina, do you have to?" Rebecca asked. "Frank's brothers are so annoying." She curled her top lip up disapprovingly.

"I don't care." Elise shrugged, rummaging through her purse to offer the phone to Tina. "...Oh crap."

"What?" Jessica asked, twirling her blond curly hair around a finger absent-mindedly.

Elise shut her eyes, biting her lip, furious at herself. "I left my phone at Scrooge's office." She mentally slapped herself. "I have to go buy a new one now," she muttered bitterly.

"Why can't you just go back and get it?" Jessica shrugged.

"Because the guy's Hitler's son reincarnated as a CEO or whatever the guy does." Elise frowned.

"...Hey guys..." Rebecca whispered, while taking a sip from her styrofoam cup of coffee, obviously trying to be casual.

"What?" Tina asked.

"Don't look, but that guy with the newspaper in the booth by the window has been watching us for, like, an hour." She kept the lid to her mouth, not actually tipping the cup.

Jessica's head turned sharply to the window, locating the man, glancing around the paper.

"I told you not to look!" Rebecca kicked Jessica under the table, saying it much louder than she wanted.

"Relax. Men _like_ attention from women." She smiled, looking up. "You know, like me." She giggled, making her usual kind of joke.

Elise felt someone staring at her, making a cold spot on her back. Turning slowly, she glanced over her shoulder. The newspaper was up much higher than people actually read out of it, but she saw his sleeves and one of his shiny black shoes.

_I swear, I must have bad karma or something._ She grimaced.

"I'm going to go see what he looks like," Tina decided, probably to try and set one of them up with him. "Maybe he has a cell I can borrow."

"Oo! Me too!" Jessica agreed. "Did you know, you can always tell if a man's a creeper, because the good-looking ones don't have to be, and the ugly ones do."

"That's not shallow at all Jess." Elise raised her own drink to her mouth, saying the words with a sarcastic joke.

"I know right?" Jessica laughed.

_If I didn't love them, I'd probably hate them._ Elise rolled her eyes.

_Maybe it's not him._ She hoped.

Tina and Jessica slipped off the spinning, red, barstools they had at a raised table in the corner, walking with what they thought was a 'relaxed' step, they walked passed the man in the booth, and watched him from the other side.

Elise put a hand over her eyes, pretending she didn't know them when she saw Tina tap him on the shoulder, trying to start a conversation about...napkins? _Are you serious?_

The man's mumbled responses were enough to tell her either Scrooge had some way of cloning himself, or Mr. Smith had followed her to the diner to spy on her and her friends. "Son of a-" Elise began.

"Elise! Don't curse!" Rebecca hissed.

Elise rolled her eyes. Rebecca had always been the "good one".

"Hey, do you have a cell phone I can borrow?" Tina asked the man. "I needed to call my-"

"Ladies! Kindly shut your mouths and leave me alone!" the man yelled in a angry Scrooge-like way.

Elise swore under her breath. "Smith." She glared at the table. What did he want now?

"What a prig." Jessica frowned, coming back to the table.

"The guy's the Grinch whose shoes were too small for a baby and whose heart is non-existent. It was like talking to Hitler," Tina agreed.

Jessica, not used to be being ignored or disliked by men, huffed, her pride hurt. "He's probably gay."

Elise swore she heard a plastic, kind of evil cackle behind her, but when she turned, only saw the paper crinkle, blocking the face behind it. "Okay that's it," Elise muttered, sliding off her chair, and strutting to the booth.

She stood in front of him until he lowered the paper. His black glasses seemed to mock her with their glossiness. "Are you _following_ me?" she demanded.

"Why ever would I wish to follow you, Miss Roberts? Humans are all the same kind of filthy beings anyway." Smith folded the paper.

_Serious? What is this guy on?_

Elise slipped in opposite the weirdo, wondering how long it took him to think up all the crap that came out of his mouth. "What do you want?" she asked, just so he would leave her alone when he finished the long monologue he would have surely prepared. Maybe then he'd go away and quite stalking her.

He looked at her with a certain thoughtful disgust, like she was an interesting piece of some unknown substance stunk to the bottom of his irritatingly shiny shoes. "Those three woman are the classic example of human's shallow lowliness." He nodded his head a slight, towards her table of confused friends.

_Here we go again._ She rolled her eyes. _Does he ever give up?_

"The small one is 'shy' and uncomfortable with other humans. She is overly, and annoyingly scared. A..." He looked down, trying to find the word. "Goody-goody, if you will. Her existence is centered on others, and will work herself out of being, just trying to get attention. Her purpose is _education,_ but since she cannot accept herself, she will never accept what she cannot see. Then the other two," he gave hints of a smile, "are so caught up in themselves, they can't see straight. The blond especially. She is offended when no one cares about her. Her purpose is to be, as you females call it, _pretty._" He sneered at the word with some kind of humor. "The other, is so full-headed, she thinks she can control those around her." He put his elbows on the table, balling his hand around the other, shrugging with his eyebrows. "Pointless, Miss Roberts. All of them striving for some sort of purpose in a world derived of meaning, all of them trying desperately to invent some kind of meaning, some answer to the question they don't understand. Control over those who think they master it is far easier than any of you could fathom."

Elise,who'd gotten before Scrooge even started, was holding her head in her hand, blinking, and looking at him with a sloppy kind of laziness. "Are you done?"

"I could continue, but my point has been made. Good day, Miss Roberts." He began to leave.

"And you're the classic example of the most miserable person on the earth." She leaned back on the cushiony seat.

Smith paused, already standing. "Miserable? Have you not yet learned emotion is a trivial thing only applying to those who still believe their life is worth anything?"

"You're case of misery is so bad you can't even see it. You see faults in everyone and everything except yourself." She didn't smile this time.

Smith, curious, took his seat again, warming up to the argument. "I can see no fault in myself because I have no faults."

Elise blinked at him for three seconds, before breaking into hysteric laughter. "You prude." She laughed.

Smith clenched his fists with power that could break a human skull. She dared _laugh_?! His perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth were grinding against each other. She was going to die _slowly_.

"You are the most stuck-up person I've ever met." Elise's smirk returned to her thin face. "But I guess you can't be that bad...you really are a very nice person." She nodded, her brows getting her face serious. She thumbed her bottom lip, looking outside.

"What?" Smith nearly yelled. He wasn't _that_ bad? Oh she was going to die _very_ slowly...begging for death before he'd put her out of her misery.

"You're an organ donor. It's the only explanation I can think of that you don't have a heart." She smiled, waving a hand at him.

"And you don't have the muscle you call a _brain_ in that empty head of yours," he replied coolly. "By mentioning my _heart_," he slurred the word sarcastically, "I am assuming you are referring to the fact I don't _love._ Love is an emotional thing. Pointless and pathetic."

"Emotions are what separates us from animals," she retorted.

"Your '_love'_ is a sad excuse for living. Look at yourself." He gestured towards her, his expression full of amusement.

Elise glanced down at herself, angry she'd obeyed, glared back up at him.

"Your '_love'_ is gone. You have no more purpose, Miss Roberts, and so cannot give a good excuse for living. Your life is worthless now that your precious '_love'_ is gone." He took great pleasure in her angry pain. "You talk about this '_love'_ that you can't keep together."

Elise didn't hear the rest. Her eyes stung, her head felt heavy, and her stomach ached. She saw him again...his cold lifeless body laying on the table, the nurses taking him to the morgue.

"My husband," she raised her head, her voice gruff from inner pain at the memory and her lips feeling dried and swollen, like she had already started crying. Her eyes flickered back to Smith, "was shot, you conceited douche."

She expected something in his demeanor to shift, an apology perhaps, but saw only blankness.

"He was being an idiot! He was on his way to meet some guy he met online, and was shot!" She had lost her poise, wondering how this monster could be so heartless.

Smith's curiosity perked... _Perhaps...?_ "Really?" He didn't bother trying to make his tone sound sympathetic.

"Yes," she answered, hoping she could keep it together. "With two others. Some man and a younger woman I had never seen before in my life. They were all dead."

"What did they look like?"

Elise stared at him. "Why would you care?"

"Was the killer ever found?"

"No. I hired some people, but they couldn't find anything. No fingerprints, no DNA no-"

"What did they look like, the two with your husband?"

Elise didn't understand. "You're going to help me find the one who killed my husband?"

Smith smiled internally. "It's what I _do_, Miss Roberts. I'll need all the details you can give me."

"Uh...okay...I'll try." _Did Scrooge just grow a heart, or is he just after the money?_

"Did your husband ever do anything against the law?" His voice answered her internal question.

_Nope, Scrooge is after the money._ Elise concluded.

Elise looked away. "He hacked a few things," she said only a notch above a whisper. Looking up, she turned her head back to him. "I'm totally clean. I don't do that stuff," she defended.

"I wouldn't dream of accusing you, Miss Roberts." _She's lying,_ Smith thought happily. _A likely candidate for the rebels to unplug. Lovely. _"About this person he met online. Did he have a name?"

"Some guy called...Orpheus I think it was." She shrugged.

"You mean Morpheus?"

"Yeah, that's it. You know him?" _He and murderes probably have regular play-dates,_ she tried to amuse herself.

"He's a notorious cyber terrorist. We've been tracking him for years. He kills hackers." Agent Smith found it hard not to laugh when she gasped like that. _She is definitely a possible candidate. It would be best to win her trust._

Elise looked shocked. That _always_ worked on humans. Mention "terrorist" and they'd believe anything you say.

"Do you think this Morpheus person was the one who killed my husband?" Elise asked, feeling an excited and terrified thrill.

"It's very possible. What did the two with your husband look like?"

"Tall, black boots, both were wearing all leather and sunglasses even though it was the middle of the night." Elise looked down at her hands, recalling that awful night. It was a month before she had decided to leave the city...and here she was again...but maybe this time she could find who killed James. Maybe. _And I need Scrooge to do it._ That thought was bitter in her mind, but she wanted desperately to make the killer pay for killing James.

Smith suppressed a victorious grin with some difficulty. "What happened the day he died?"

"My husband and I worked for Microsoft, I still do, but at the time we were working on a program together." Elise tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, remembering, turning her eyes away from the emotionless face. "Some police officers came, and told him government men were waiting to talk to him downstairs. All I saw, since I wasn't allowed to go with him, was a shiny black car driving away with him in it."

"What kind of car?" Smith asked, already sure he knew.

"I think it was an Audi...a black Audi...does that matter?" She didn't know how that would apply to anything...not that she had ever been a detective.

_That confirms it, doesn't it?_ Smith wanted to laugh with triumph.

"He called me when I got home, and said he was going to meet some guy with answers or something like that. Then he was dead."

"Thank you, Miss Roberts." Smith stood.

"Yeah." She nodded, smacking her mouth around the word to try and regain herself.

_Perhaps it's fate I didn't kill her. It seems I can make use of her after all. I truly am the perfect Agent. Any other would be too dense to make a perfect plan like this._ He smiled, turning, leaving the diner, and casually drove away...in his black Audi.

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This chapter wasn't really funny...(devious smile) but just wait till the next one. I made it with an extra gallon of 'awkward'.

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	3. There is No Bagel

Thank you so, so, so much for the reviews! I couldn't resist posting this...I hope it lives up to your expectations. This chapter is longer than the other two. (Tell me if it's too long.)

Review! (C'mon, give me your worst.)

Oh, and I don't own Matrix.

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Elise Roberts._ He typed the name into the database, tapping his foot as the super computer ran over all matches for "Elise Roberts" in the country. He scrolled through the names and surveillance photos until he found her.

Agent Smith was seated at his desk again, glancing from the screen to the phone she had left in his office. He shrugged internally, flipping open the fairly cheap device the humans used for communication.

_Enter Password:_ The words on the screen said. A password? The foolish human woman thought she could stop Agent Smith with a _password_?! It was no wonder the humans were so easily controlled in the Matrix.

Matrix.

Out of random thought, Smith pressed in the numbers with the letters, spelling out the human word for "Matrix". The screen blinked off for a moment, before a digitalized jingle played and the phone showed the main menu bar. "Welcome Elise," the banner read.

Smith's smirk lasted only a moment. This human had used "Matrix" as a password. That was no coincidence.

His eyes returned to the computer screen. "Elise Roberts," the words read. "Widow of James Stambler." He skimmed over things he didn't need, like "place of birth" and "current height in metric units" (they kept _very_ good records of those in the Matrix) until he found her home address. He memorized it quickly, not needing to write it down since he had perfect memory.

Returning to the search, he typed in "James Stambler", finding him under "deceased". His eyes skimmed this page much faster, until he found "cause of death".

He had expected what he saw, but part of him almost seemed surprised…almost.

"James Stambler (alias _Worm_) meeting with two of Theodore Dawson's (alias _Morpheus_) revolutionaries. Earlier on day of death, met with Agents Brown, Jones and Smith. Stambler was given Bug, and tracked to meeting place. Shot in the head by Agent Smith. Dawson's revolutionaries Kristine Young (alias _Reptile_) and Jeremiah Hickory (alias _Jumper_) shot in head, heart, stomach, chest and legs by Agents Jones and Brown. All currently deceased."

Smith's eyes flickered to the photo of James Stambler, both before and after death. Yes, he remembered that night. They had been given an order to take no prisoners, and since they weren't humans, orders were always obeyed.

Smith picked the phone back up, and on the computer, went back to Elise Robert's profile. "Suspected of hacking under alias '_Host_.' Currently employed by _Microsoft_."

That was all he needed. She was a perfect target for the pathetically softhearted Morpheus. He would of course blame himself for the deaths of his crew and the death of her husband, and take it upon himself to give Elise "freedom". The fact she was a hacker and worked for one of the human's biggest software companies made it even better.

All he had to do would be to gain her trust. Convince her to go undercover and give him Morpheus.

Smith smiled with evil pleasure (or the closest thing an AI can have to it). Oh this was sweet. Morpheus had slipped through his fingers time and time again. Not this time.

Smith glanced at the clock. It was too late to go to the human now; he'd have to wait until morning. It would be a weekend, so she wouldn't be at work. He'd have to wait until morning.

He looked back at her phone, and clicking "enter" began to scroll through passed calls. He'd have to have her home phone tapped, as well as this phone. It would have to be good, so the rebels didn't notice. There couldn't be any slip-ups in a plan so perfect.

………………………………………………………………………

_The next morning_

…………………………………………………

_What a morning._

Jessica, Tina, Rebecca, Frank, Frank's brother Joe, their friend Matthew, and old roommate Chris had come over before Elise woke up, drank all the coffee, ate all the eggs, and managed to leave no food in the apartment other than one teabag, a bottle half full of Gatorade, and a package of Ramen Noodles.

Elise woke up, with mascara she hadn't taken off the night before smeared under her eyes, her hair tangled in a hopeless fluff, and a headache like no other. She had a dream where she chased a white rabbit through a phone booth, when Smith and some guy in a black trenchcoat showed up and started attacking each other and the poor cartoon rabbit.

_I've got to lay off the bad pizza before bed,_ she muttered.

Jessica had come into Elise's bedroom while she was on her laptop, refusing to go out and meet the people she didn't know who were in her apartment laughing over some soap opera on TV. Besides, she was busy making a speeding ticket disappear. (All the police kept the records electronically…and she really didn't have a choice to speed or not. She wasn't really a _criminal, technically. _It wasn't like she hacked the IRS anymore…except in the last few weeks.)

Elise hid her laptop, knowing how her friends would freak out if they found out about her occasional hack job. Jessica told her Tina had left with Frank to check out a place for the wedding, and that she, the other guys Elise didn't know, and Rebecca were going to the store, then out to lunch and then to catch a movie.

"You want to come with?" Jessica offered, casually dropping the word "us."

"Nah, I have a spreadsheet to finish by Monday." Elise had only just remembered it. It _had_ to be done on time; her boss would explode if it was late, since he was kind of crazy. She hadn't even started working on it.

"Sounds like a cool way to spend a Saturday." Jessica's top lip curled back a little in dread. "When do you breathe?"

"Too much. I've been procrastinating for about a week…maybe I'll take a shower first," Elise considered, trying to get Jessica to leave so she could finish the hack.

"Okay, see you around six." She waved.

Elise waited to hear the door closed with a click. Quickly she deleted her speeding and parking tickets and closed her laptop. She decided to take a shower and, slipping out of her bedroom, walked across the narrow hallway to the bathroom.

The water was warm and gentle on her tired muscles, helping to ease her mind. She took an extra long amount of time, washing herself slowly in the steaming heat. Elise refused to leave the shower until all the hot water was gone.

Pulling a fluffy towel around her body, she stepped out, washing her face in the sink before she reached for her bathrobe—

A _click_ made her pause. _Tina and Frank are back already?_

She heard footsteps on the wood, then the carpet, pausing here and there.

"Hey, Frank and Tina," Elise called, wrapping a towel around her hair, drying it slowly. "The others went to the store for—"

The bathroom door swung open, catching her without any cover.

She screamed, trying to get the towel off her head, over her body. "_Smith?!_" she shrieked. "Get out! Close the door! Get out!" She tore the towel off her head violently, covering her front.

He began to speak in a dull monotone, seeming to not register she was naked. "Yelling is just another sign of human—" What, did the glasses make him blind or something? Agent Smith stood, holding the handle in his hand, trying to understand why the human was yelling at him.

"I'm _naked,_ you perv! Do you _mind_?!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

He thought about the question. _Why does the human sound like she's in pain?_ he wondered. "No…" he shook his head, speaking slowly, sarcastically, like he thought it was a stupid question.

Stunned at his reaction, she stared at him for a brief moment, wondering if Scrooge was for real. "Get _out_! I'm _naked_! What are you doing in my _house_?!"

Fully understanding this, Smith stumbled back, putting his hands in front of him to cover her image.

"Don't look at me! Get out of my bathroom!" she yelled, keeping the towel over her, and coming at him, swinging the first thing her hand found at him. "Get. Out! Get. Out! Get. Out!" She swung the bottle of body wash like a club.

She tried to hit his head, holding the towel over her still dripping body with one hand. Swinging from all sides he didn't protect, she tried to hit him, but he blocked with his hands every time, like he was used to naked woman trying to beat him with a bottle of liquid soap.

Agent Smith, stumbling backwards, retreated from the crazed woman. Elise slammed the door in his face, screaming in frustration.

Locking the bathroom door with bitter fury, she glared at it for a while before she turned to put on her bathrobe.

Elise glared daggers of hate at Smith when she crossed the hallway to from the bathroom to her bedroom, slamming and locking that door behind her. Smith, who'd gone down the short corridor, turned his head when he heard the door, ready to explain, when she just slammed the bedroom door behind her.

When she did come out, fully dressed in jeans and a black shirt (a strong contrast to the business suit she'd had the day before), her hair was still wet, dripping tiny puddles on the floor. She had no socks or shoes, and was glaring at Smith with the same kind of loathing he'd seen on so many rebels he'd shot…if they weren't terrified, that is. She held a towel in her hands, which she was using to dry her thick hair.

Thinking she was going to speak, Smith stood in front of the counter, looking at her.

"Explain," she growled after a moment.

"You said you wanted me to help you find your husband's killer, yes?"

"I meant you walking in my bathroom!" she yelled again, waving a hand down the hall.

Smith considered that. To gain her trust he'd have to sound human. "The longer we take to start, the longer before we catch Morpheus."

"No, you aren't getting it." Elise held the towel in a clenched fist, put her fist against her hip, and pointed down the hall, speaking in slow, enraged breaths. "What were you—wait, how'd you get in my house?"

"Your security system is flawed, virtually useless." Smith walked passed her, sitting himself on her white armchair. "A _child_ could break in. If I were, say, Morpheus, you'd already be dead."

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes, getting more annoyed at him than angry. It was weird how he could do that. "You couldn't kill a mouse." She overlooked the first time she had seen him, when he had killed the men in the alley. She only thought of him as superficial, cocky, proud and Scrooge-like. "You could stalk the mouse until he cracked, and killed _himself_, but that's about the extent of your ability."

Smith tried hard not to laugh. _Oh, if only you knew, Miss Roberts. If only you knew…_ "We're wasting time, Miss Roberts. Lets get to work on finding _him_, shall we?" He relaxed in a chair, making himself at home in _her_ apartment.

Home…wait… "How'd you know where my house was?" she demanded. _Smith is stalking me!_ "How long have you been following me, Mister Smith?" She growled his name, imitating him.

Smith's proud features contorted into disgust. "I told you, I don't _follow_ anyone. I found it in this." He tossed something at her. She fumbled a catch. "If you have any leads, call me. The number's been added," he informed her dully, referring to her cell phone.

_Now he wants me to call him._ She thought, kind of freaked out again. "I had a password on this…?" she eyed him, feeling her personal space violated by him…again. What else did he know about her? Her cheating out of a few fines here and there? Was he going to arrest her? Blackmail? What else did he know?

"Yes. Yes, you did. Tell me, why did you have your password set as _Matrix_?" (He seemed to think it was funny.)

"Tell _me_," she added over him. "Why did you break into my house?" She didn't wait for his answer, but turned up her hall to get her shoes. She was sick of this.

"Where are you going?" he asked, coming up behind her.

"I haven't eaten, I'm going to go get breakfast." _And go into a public place where I'm not alone with you,_ she added mentally.

"Fine, I'll come with you." He sounded upset about that, leaning against the door to her bedroom.

Leaning over her bed, she picked up a pair of tennis shoes. "You really don't have to." She made her eyes into slits, glaring at him.

"We'll take my car. There a few a people from my office who need to meet with you."

_Great. More people like you. Just what a girl needs, s_he thought unhappily. "What do you drive? Wait, don't tell me, a hearse, right?"

He didn't answer, but picked up the laptop on her bed. "What is this?" he asked, opening it.

"Nothing! Nothing! Give it back!" She lunged at him, trying to get it back.

He turned protectively over it, smiling up at her when he glanced at the screen. "You're totally _clean_, are you?" he asked in his cocky tone.

She grabbed it away from him, turning it off. Why didn't she close the stupid window? She glared daggers at him. "It's not what you think…"

"Oh I think it is." He grinned. _Perfect. This is serious enough to make her the perfect target for Morpheus._ "Rest assured your secret is safe with me."

She sneered sarcastically at him. "What a vote of confidence. Please forgive me for not _whooping_ for joy."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_At the Agents' headquarters, half an hour later_

…………………………………………………………………

Was it even worth this? Elise took a bite from her cream cheese-covered bagel, fully aware of the looks the two men with her and Smith were giving her. They were dressed exactly like him, and except the fact their faces were different, it was like the same mind was controlling them.

It was like something from a Hollywood horror film. _I can see it now:__ Attack of the Smith Clones._

"So, Miss Roberts," one started. She was sitting at a metal table in an all-white room, hugging her purse to her and feeling very awkward eating her bagel when they stared at her. "I have been informed Agent Smith has related to you the seriousness of this?"

"Yeah." She whipped a bit of cream cheese off her face. Could they stop staring at her like she was some kind of freak for one minute? Was that so hard? Having _one_ Smith was bad enough.

"Morpheus is a notorious cyber terrorist. He finds people like you, and either kills them or makes them join him," the other one started. She couldn't remember which one was Jones and which was Brown. Not that she _cared;_ they all looked and acted the same. Were they related?

_Maybe Jessica was right, _Elise considered, _maybe they are gay._

"What do you mean, 'people like me'?" She tried to sound as vindictive as possible.

"Hackers, of course." Smith had a thick brown folder in front of where he sat across from her.

She swore under her breath. _Stupid Smith._

"We aren't here to arrest you, Miss Roberts," the second one said.

"We will give you full pardon, and even, 'look the other way,' as you put it, if you can give us Morpheus," Smith told her.

She set the bagel down so she could cross her arms. "What if I can't?" she sneered.

"Then you go to jail for twenty years," the first one told her.

"Or more," the second added.

She swore again, louder. "I don't even know who he is." She raised her shoulders, giving Smith a look, ignoring the other two. "I already said if I knew anything I'd tell you."

"That's not really why you're here, Miss Roberts. We don't expect you to _know_ anything," the first one said again. He and the other guy were standing, watching her with the same blank expression Smith always wore.

"Thank you, that's very nice," she muttered sarcastically.

"When Morpheus contacts you, as he surely will, but under a different alias, he will invite you to join his band of misfits," Smith added, drawing her attention back to him. "We want you to go with him."

She stared at him for a few seconds, raising an eyebrow, and letting her mouth stay open when she studied his face. "Say what?"

"We want you to go undercover. Everyone on his crew is wanted for murder of dozens, if not hundreds, of people from this very city. They have succeeded in making the crime rate skyrocket. Morpheus is said to brainwash his victims into working for him. He gives them crazy delusions that they're seeing things that aren't there, and keeps them in a filthy metal prison. He convinces his crew by some means we don't yet know, that they are the last people alive on Earth. He injects them with drugs through the back of the head, neck, arms and torso, pumping them full of performance enhancers, and making them sure they are in a fake world, making the killing of innocents valid--in his mind."

Elise stared at him, horror and disgust filling her face. "Wha—but...why?"

"Because, Miss Roberts, some people are just sick," Smith told her. It had never been so hard to keep a straight face. The human wasn't particularly dull as humans went, but it was beyond obvious by her own reaction that she believed every word of the lie he had just told her. _Poor, deluded creature._

"So, you want me to go undercover...with a _serial killer_?" she asked, ignoring the other two, just speaking to Smith. "What will he do to me if he finds out I'm working for you?" she asked, sounding scared, but determined.

"That is why he can't know, Miss Roberts. Your house will have surveillance to make sure nothing goes wrong, and we will be on standby to give you assistance should you need it. We will be in contact with you, but Morpheus can't know this." Elise believed him, that was clear, but she still looked scared for her own life, and wouldn't make eye contact with him. "You have a chance to bring your husband's murderer to justice, and prevent the deaths of hundreds." Smith leaned forward, applying emphasis to his words.

Elise had crossed her legs, and was looking down at the ground, considering. She trusted everything he said to her. Every single word. She was a gold mine. So easily manipulated.

"I'll do it," she said quietly. "I'll help you."

* * *

Yes? No? Good? Bad? Yea? Blah?

Review, and you'll be my best friend for at least two minutes. Maybe.

I can take criticism. Give me your worst.

* * *


	4. Candy from Strangers

Okay, so no, I don't own Matrix.

So this chapter kind of took a longer time, because I am sort of having writer's block. I tossed out the old ending (which, trust me, you'd thank me for it was the most horrible piece of fanfiction you're never going to have to read) and had to make-up a new one...so yeah.

Anyway, I hope you like it. (I can handle your worst most synical critisysm. Try me.) I really hope Smith is still in character...it's really hard to keep him in character and have any kind of romance thing going on. I think Elise and Smith get a little closer to that in this chapter, but yeah, I'm hopeful.

* * *

"It won't hurt, will it?" Elise's nervous eyes flickered to the equipment laid out on the table before her. She bit her bottom lip, feeling the deep dread of needles stab at her stomach.

Smith shook his head. "Only a little."

Elise groaned. "You're supposed to say _no_." She closed her eyes, leaning against the cushiony chair that belonged in a dentist's office, not a building like this.

She was in a white room, like the one before, except it was fixed up to look more like an operating room, with bright lights that came down to shine right in her face, and enough electric wires and plugs to look like a recycling plant. Where they planning on doing open brain surgery or something?

Smith cracked a smile, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves. He had offered to do the procedure himself, using the excuse that "the plan was his" which had worked on the others, so it was good enough for now.

They had to have her tracked, so when the rebels picked her up, as they surely would, thanks to all the modifications the Agents had made on her programs, viruses, bugs, etcetera to match the patterns the rebels looked for in people ready to be unplugged.

"What is that?" Elise asked, when he turned around, adjusting the bottle and cotton ball in his hand.

"Rubbing alcohol, to sterilize your arm," he assured her, covering the top of the bottle with the cotton ball, and turning it upside down to wet it. "Roll up your shirt sleeve please, Elise." He pointed.

She did, noticing he had called her "Elise" instead of "Miss Roberts". She liked "Elise" better…

"Please don't say words like 'sterilize', you make me feel like a dog in the vets office," she informed him, feeling the smell of the chemical sting her nose. "What are you going to do, exactly?" she ventured.

"Just a few things to help us keep track of where you are," he answered, turning back around, preparing the air tank of anesthesia.

"What, like a computer chip or something?" she asked, feeling that twinge of fear again. Before she came into this room, she had about twenty forms to sign, all making her fear increase with the length of the words.

"No, no. We take your blood type, and run an analysis of your physical health, to ensure when this is over, if, on the very unlikely occasion, there is any need for you to go to the hospital, all of the costs will be covered," he answered, surprised how good that lie sounded, and even more surprised he felt a need to lie to her.

_Of course if she suspects anything the whole plan falls to pot._ He answered his unspoken question.

Turning back to her, he offered her the mask to wear over her mouth and nose. "Breath this in," he told her, handing it to her, ready to turn the machine on.

"Why?" she glanced at it with another dose of painful fear in her guts.

"We have our reasons, Miss Roberts." His voice took an authoritative tone again.

_So much for dropping the "Miss Roberts" thing._ She thought unhappily, taking the mask, and placing it over her mouth and nose.

"Ready?" he asked, his finger over the button.

"Yeah." She nodded.

He turned on the anesthesia, instructing her hands into the proper position with his own. "Deeply," his voice was breathier, softer, as if to train her. "Deeply breath." He moved her other hand over the mask gently with his.

Her eyes sagged, and slowly closed as the anesthesia worked.

He waited a moment, before removing the mask. Her suspicions would have skyrocketed if she saw what he was about to do.

He pulled her shirtsleeve back down, and laid her hands down on the armrests. Stepping on a pedal on the floor, he raised her chair, and made it flatten out, so she was lying down.

Taking a breath to refresh his memory, he drilled himself quickly, making sure, as he already knew he was, that he knew the procedure perfectly.

Turning back to the table, he opened the metal brief case, picking up the small metal device. The worm inside, programmed into being for the sole purpose of tracking her, was waiting for him to touch the red button and release it.

Turning back to the intoxicated woman, he pulled the bottom of her shirt up, just passed her belly button. He glanced from her smooth skin, to the device in his hand, to the walls around him. The camera, swiveling from side to side, inspecting the room.

He let the tip of the device hover about her belly button. For one moment, he considered not doing it, but in that same moment, he remembered why he had to, and pressing the button, found he had looked away from the worm as it fell on her stomach.

_It won't hurt her, _Smith reminded himself,_ you know that._

But he heard her breath become more stressed, and she gave a little groan, turning her head from side to side, her arms twitching in her sleep. Her face contorted in a frown, cringing slightly in discomfort as the worm wriggled around on her skin before finding its target.

Smith waited a moment, just to be sure he didn't have to look at the worm when it slithered into her. It was done. Everything was fine. Her face calmed like in sleep, remained unmoving, not having felt the worst the worm could have possibly done with the slight overdose he had purposely given her. Just in case.

He pulled her shirt back down, over her stomach, looking away, and back again. "You shall either be our salvation, or our damnation, Miss Roberts," he said quietly, with his back to the camera.

…………………………………

_One week later_

………………………………………………

She hadn't imagined undercover work being so…boring.

It had been one week since she'd signed on with Smith to help him find this Morpheus, and still, nothing had happened new or different in her life in any way.

Well, _almost_ nothing.

When she'd awoke from whatever test they had run, she felt sore in the stomach, guessing the sudden pain had been the reason she had to unconscious. Smith and his two clones had given her a run-down on what she needed to do.

"Remember, at every casual opportunity, remark on something, like you think it's unnatural," Smith instructed.

"Why?" she had asked.

"Morpheus needs people he thinks are easily fooled into believing the world is a shame. If you already believe that, he'll find you faster. You have to appear to think there is something horribly wrong with the world," he had told her.

She had done that. But still, one week later, and nothing.

The only strange thing was…_ Stop Elise_. She ordered herself angrily.

Smith had seemed to disappear. He was there the day after she agreed to help them, and had stopped over to "make sure she understood everything" (though Jessica didn't believe Smith's story when Elise told her), but was gone the next day, and the day after that. Saying, before he left the one day he had come over, that "they're less likely to come if I'm around" whatever that was supposed to mean.

Okay fine! So she'd sort of had a few more dreams (as in every night that week) that she was in a sleek black car with…Smith, and, in the dream, she was always holding his hand, and then they'd stop at a phone booth, and they'd go through it, into the "real world", which was all bright and green. (She woke up every time, unsure whether to be happy, or angry.)

_Angry, definitely. Elise! It's _Smith_! Not James McAvoy!_

That did _not_ mean she missed him! It meant she was unsure about what she was going to do. _How could anyone miss Hitler reincarnate?_

_Oh yeah Elise, cause you actually still think that._

_Shut up, no one asked you!_ She ordered harshly.

_Wonderful, now we're insane._

_Yes we are._

The most annoying part was, earlier that day she'd gotten a call from Smith, saying he would give her a full run down when he was finished with a training exercise on the other side of the city. He told her to expect him within three to four days, his test would be over by then.

She had left the noise of her apartment, which was always full now, between Tina's and Frank's wedding, to the Super Bowl, the place was always packed with people she only remotely remembered.

She sighed in the early autumn air, kicking a few stray leaves out in front of her. She had put on her gray coat with the belt (the one James had bought her), and turned around, admiring the park.

"Why Hello there," an old lady's voice said from behind her. "How are you?"

Elise turned sharply; only then noticing the park wasn't entirely deserted. An old, dark woman sat on a bench, tossing a few breadcrumbs to the pigeons pecking it up hungrily. _Relax; it's just a nice old grandma. All this undercover stuff has got you all fidgety for nothing._

"Hello." Elise returned the smile, her dried lips shining with the lip balm she'd applied.

"Won't you have a seat?" the woman with the hair in a poof offered, nodding to the empty space.

"Thank you." Elise took it.

"What are you so chipper about?" the woman asked, tossing a larger chunk of bread to a larger pigeon. "See that big one?" she pointed to the gray pigeon who pecked it away. "That mother has just had four late eggs hatch, and is taking that back to give her young." She smiled.

Elise nodded. "Oh…" _How would she know that?_ She didn't ask out loud.

"So, what is so good in the world that you look so happy?" the woman asked, reaching into her purse and pulling out a hard candy, unwrapping it, and popping it into her mouth. "Oh, would you like one?" she offered another.

"No, thank you." Elise shook her head.

The woman nodded. "I thought you might say that. Worried about cavities." She smiled knowingly.

_Okay, that's weird…_

"So…?" the woman prodded her on.

Elise cocked a grin. "I…just got a call from someone today. I don't have much of a life, and sort of…I don't know, it was just nice."

The woman nodded. "Uh huh. Honey, let me give you a piece of advice," the woman's face became somewhere between motherly and authoritative. "Sometimes you can't tell a rotten apple from a ripe one, unless you test them both to make sure," she told her.

Elise furrowed her brow, before giving a nervous laugh. "What does that mean?"

"It means," the woman tossed another piece of bread to a pigeon. "Just cause someone says something, doesn't make it true."

"The truth can be interpreted two different ways," Elise added, popping her heal in and out of her tennis shoes. She was still wearing her business clothes from the day, but had no intention of ruining her high heels.

"Oh it can be interpreted more ways than that, honey, but it don't stop being the truth." She nodded. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Elise felt the tiniest twinge of excitement as a stupid idea flashed across her mind. "No," she replied, slower than what seemed normal.

"Why not?" the woman asked her again.

"Because I don't need one. Because the right guy hasn't come around."

"Are you sure?" the woman asked. Elise's eyes reflexively flickered to a man, in a white coat, came slowly towards them. The woman turned her head, following Elise's eyes. "Oh don't my Seraph. He's a pussycat," she assured her, patting her knee. "Wouldn't hurt even the most annoying fly. So, how do you know what a person is if you don't look past what's on the outside?"

"What? You mean like being shallow?"

"That's one way of doing it, I suppose. What I was thinking more along the lines of, was, just because they can throw around a few fancy words, and dress all nice-like, doesn't tell you anything about who, or what they are. Don't let someone lead you down the wrong path, telling you all sorts of lies about someone. Find out for yourself, that's the only way to know."

"I'm sorry," Elise began, as the man the woman had addressed as "Seraph" (whatever kind of name that was) tapped the woman, who began to pack up her things. "But what are you telling me, exactly?"

"I'm saying, I think you've made a terrible mistake in judging someone's character, and if you haven't yet, you're soon going to pay for that. You may think you know the world about someone, and soon find out you're wrong. Just keep a sharp eye open. Look before you leap."

"Don't judge a book by its cover?" Elise offered, smiling as she stood to say goodbye to the strange, yet charming in a way, woman she'd only just met.

"That's it." The woman smiled. "And be sure to choose red, not blue." The woman, supporting herself against the man, turned to leave.

"Wait…what does that mean?" Elise called after her.

"You'll know it when you know it, honey!" the woman assured her. "Trust me, you'll know."

………………………………………………

_Two days later, on the other side of the city_

…………………………………………………………………………

Aim. Fire. Cock it. Aim. Fire. Cock it. Aim. Fire. Cock it.

Three more _bangs_ sounded from Smith's gun, and three more people dropped dead. Six out of six. Not bad. It was a perfect success. Not that Agents fail.

The precious Captain Stockman and her crew had fallen. It wasn't surprising. Nothing was surprising.

"Simulation terminated. Mission is success. Congratulations; Agent Smith." the holograms faded, and the dead bodies of the fictitious humans disappeared from the asphalt, that was shifting into the white floor of the Agent's training. He'd been issued an upgrade, and, like the others, had to have it tested on fake humans before he could be allowed back in the field.

He cocked a gin. His tie hadn't so much as fallen out of place.

The upgrades hadn't felt much different to him than before. He had been assured he would hear better, see better, smell better, run faster, etcetera, etcetera, but he felt no different.

Smith turned on his heel, pushing the doors open with certain flamboyancy, eyeing the other Agents, lined-up, ready to test themselves against the simulation.

The scanner gave a _beep_ as he walked under, giving him clearance to go on after checking his code to make sure he had complied with the order from the Mainframe, and had passed the test.

Walking through the automatic doors, he glanced up at the artificial sun in the Matrix sky. Something the humans would consider beautiful.

He had other things on his mind than the humans' taste in beauty, however, and quickened his pace to his Audi, parked among twenty others, all identical.

"Agent Smith." Agent Sully, one in charge of the rebels in the lower part of the state stood against the wall, not leaning because Agents never lean, stepped in front of him.

"Yes?" Smith didn't wait to talk to the Agent. Agent Sully was below him as far as he was concerned, and if he wanted to talk to Smith, he could run along beside him like a dog program.

"A call came in for you, it's about a certain Miss Elise Roberts," the Agent informed him. "The rebels have spotted her, and have recently hacked into the Matrix to spy on her, making sure she's ready for them to unplug her. You've been advised to go to her with the utmost caution. They have eyes everywhere."

This was one of the main reasons Agent Smith had such a problem with Agent Sully. Sully believed the humans were a fair match to the Agents, and not an easy win. He was always checking over his shoulder, sometimes even saying the humans were winning the war the Machines had already won.

"Why are you telling me this? Why not Jones or Brown?" Smith asked.

"Agent Jones and Agent Brown took longer to adapt to the upgrade. They will be out of this facility when they have proven their systems have not rejected the new code." Sully responded.

Smith considered what Sully had told him. "It is my mission to make sure she knows what we want her to do before she does anything," Smith reminded Agent Sully.

"Yes, but if they read you anywhere near her, the whole mission is ruined," Sully answered without missing a beat.

"You have far more faith in the humans than I, Agent Sully." Smith opened his door, already climbing inside, ignoring the other Agent as best he could.

"Is it worth it, Smith? Give her one reason not to trust you and she'll be another rebel you're shooting at," Sully continued. He never acted like a program should. Something must have been amiss in his programming. He was a newer model of the Agent program, designed to blend in better with the humans.

To Smith, Sully did that all too well. He was even beginning to talk like a human. The other day, Smith had sworn he heard Sully say "love is what ties the world together". There was something wrong with Sully's code. So how had he passed the test?

Smith had considered sending a complaint to the Mainframe, requesting Sully's deletion, but could give no reason for this request, and so had to put up with him.

Smith slammed his door in Sully's face, and drove away, ignoring the rest of his sentence. If it was so important, he could have transmitted it through his earpiece, so Smith could safely assume it was another of Sully's lectures on why the humans aren't so bad since they created the Machines.

_Aren't so bad, are they?_ Smith sneered, letting a scene of Sully, dressed like the rebels, play in his head. Smith cocked his gun, firing it at the rebels, smiling as Sully fell with them.

There really had to be something wrong with Sully. It had been growing for a while, and slowly, like a human infected with a disease, it was destroying Sully. At first, he had almost been a normal Agent, then something had happened to him…it started out vague, but it grew, and since then, every time Smith had the misfortune of running into him, Sully was less and less like the Agents, and more and more like the humans.

Whatever had caused it, Smith might be able to use against him, getting Sully deleted for good.

_Back to business, Smith._ He reminded himself. _What to do to make the human Elise Roberts trust us with the greatest sincerity possible? What do human females like?_ He pondered, thumbing his bottom lip, with his elbow against the steering wheel, as the other shifted gears.

He wasn't left to ponder long.

The Agents never needed phones, since their earpieces connected them all together, but Smith had one, for the sole purpose of getting information from Elise Roberts. It was a small cell phone, "high-tech" to the humans, in a sleek black style.

Smith had only driven a few blocks when it rang, playing the default beeping ring of a digital bell. He flipped it open, holding it against his head on the side without the earpiece. "Hello?"

"…Smith?" Elise's voice asked hesitatingly.

"Yes?" he answered automatically.

"I called earlier, but the guy who answered said you were in some kind of exercise of training or—" Elise began.

"Yes, yes. What is it, Elise?" Had he called her Elise? No, he'd meant Miss Roberts!

Elise hesitated, "I think they're watching me, Smith," she whispered. "I was in the park, and this old woman came up to me, and she said that—"

"It is very probable they are keeping an eye on you, Miss Roberts. But it is not something to worry over," he assured her, cutting her mid-sentence, not concerned. He knew he should ask what the woman looked like, as it wouldn't be surprising if it was _that_ certain old woman...but she wouldn't risk going out in public, so either way, it wasn't as if it mattered.

"Yeah, I know, but I have this feeling someone is—"

"Where are you?"

"In the lobby of Dawson Incorporated, but I—" she tried again.

"Don't go back to your apartment," he instructed.

"…Why?" she asked, a kind of sarcasm leaking through her tone, finally finishing a sentence.

"I have asked you in the past not to inquire on what I tell you, I have my reasons, Miss Roberts," he reminded in a dull tone.

"Uh…okay. Where am I supposed to—"

"I have to give you a run down on basic procedure for your mission," he cut her off again.

"Could you let me finish one sent—!" her voice raised.

"I will be there in ten minutes," he informed her. "Be outside by the fountain on the western edge, across the street from the Noodle Restaurant," he drilled her, clicking the phone shut before she could retort.

* * *

Yes? No? Oui? Non? Si? No si? (German word for yes)? Nine? And that's about the extent of my foreign language ability...I fail. Never mind. Just review, if you may. (These chapters are getting longer...really, tell me if it's too long. Wow...I sound kind of OCD about the reviews, don't I?


	5. I'm Being Followed by the MIB

Still don't own the Matrix.

As a really quick note, I have to mention, this is before the first Matrix movie, and before Trinity has joined Morpheus's team. Elise might be acting slightly...immature in parts of this chapter, so tell me if I went a little over-board. Once again, if Smith isn't being Smithish, then tell me, please.

This one is where we really start to see the Agent Smith/Elise Roberts cross, so yeah! Reviews make the world go round (my world anyway) so review! I can take harsh comments, and I do want to get better, so give me your worst!

* * *

Elise had ridden in his car once before, and so easily controlled her expression when she saw the glossy, very sleek, very expensive car pulled up for her by the fountain. Smith didn't get out of the car, staring straight ahead, waiting for her to let herself in.

_Chivalry is truly dead._ She thought bitterly, climbing into the car.

She'd gone from the park to the supermarket a few blocks away, and had an uncanny feeling that the man with the dark sunglasses, and trench coat, was _not_ in the cereal aisle to buy Tasty Wheat.

She had turned around to see him disappear every time. It scared her so much she could hardly keep from running when she checked-out, and crossed the busy street to call a cab.

The next day, when she went into work, she was sure the woman with the slicked back brown hair, the little one with the beady eyes under his light sunglasses, and the bald one with a goatee, were _not_ just passing through.

She had left the office building, and they had followed her across the street to the dry cleaners, from there to café where she met Rebecca and Jessica, but the three had left when Elise requested she and her friends go back to her apartment.

The next day was far worse.

Every corner she turned, every step she took, she felt she was being watched.

When she had gone on her laptop to check her email, the whole screen had gone black, and green words had appeared, letter after letter, in a sloppy rhythm, like they were being typed as they went along.

"_Hello, Host_."

She had stared at it, her mouth hanging open, utter bewilderment flooding her brain.

"_Have you ever had a dream and woken, unsure whether or not it was a dream?_"

She shook her head, pressing _Control, Alt, Delete_ trying to get the screen to return to normal.

"_That won't work, Host._"

Her pulse quickening, she pressed the power button, but the screen didn't change, even though the light said it was off.

"_Calm down, Host._"

This was getting _too_ weird.

Elise yanked the cord out of her apartment wall.

"_If you come with us, we can answer the question that has been plaguing you since the day you were born._"

Elise's curiosity perked, but only for a moment, and she slammed it shut, yanking out the battery of the laptop in a very violent manner.

The phone rang, and Jessica, who'd been reading a Celebrity Gossip magazine rushed to answer it, using her "flirty" voice. Jessica frowned, and raising an eyebrow, before hanging the phone back up.

"Freaking teenagers," Jessica rolled her eyes to Elise. "Think they're so funny."

"What was it?" Elise tried not too sound too curious.

"Some chick named 'Switch' wanted to know if someone named 'Host' remembered what 'Worm' had told her about Alice." Jessica laughed, thinking it was funny. "So I hung up. Teenagers are so obnoxious. I can't believe _I_ was like that once."

Elise didn't comment on the fact Jessica had said "like that once" as if it were past tense.

The last comment from Jessica had broken it, and she felt very claustrophobic all of a sudden. She had to get out of her apartment. She couldn't handle this. She had to get away from all of this before she went insane!

When she ran down the hall, just grabbing a coat and her purse, giving Jessica a mumbled explanation for leaving, she felt the blood pounding in her ears.

Forcing herself to calm down, she had taken the elevator instead of the stairs, which had been more appealing to her, since she was in such a rush.

Everything was going normal until she'd gotten about half way, and the elevator stopped, the lights went black, and the music went off with a _beep_, and a voice came on, through the speakers.

"Hello, Host," the dark voice said. Elise's heart was almost pumping out of her chest. What was happening? She fell against the wall, and her breath came in heavy, terrified pants. What was going on? "Listen to me, and stay very calm. We believe Agents have bugged your apartment. You are advised to stay as far away from your apartment as you can. We will be in contact with you," it said, and beeped off. The elevator music returned to normal, the lights came back on, and the elevator went on as if nothing had happened.

Her knees had knocked together, and she fell out of the elevator when the doors opened. She ran outside, hailed a cab, ordered him to drive across town where the people, whoever they were, couldn't follow her, and, in the safety of the lobby of a large office building, called Smith on her cell phone.

But when she'd called him he wouldn't let her get a word in about every horrible traumatic event she'd been through, saying he'd be there to pick her up…which he was.

Controlling her expression at the sight of his car was so very annoyingly easy compared to controlling her expression at the sight of _him_.

Smith, in the only thing he ever wore, his suit, tie, and glasses looked exactly the same as he always had, not at all concerned that he'd been ignoring her for a whole week. What was his excuse? Especially after the incident in the elevator, it had better be good.

She climbed into his car, feeling the leather against her exposed calves and shins in her business skirt. She'd only just gotten back from work when her laptop had gone on the fritz.

Holding her coat in one hand, her purse over her shoulder, she buckled herself in with the other hand, closing the door behind her, and locking it.

Smith didn't move for a moment, and the only sound in the still car was Elise's breathing. His head finally turned, very slowly, one eyebrow raised, and a question on his face. "Why did you lock the doors, Miss Roberts?"

Clenching her teeth and pursing her lips she glared straight ahead, crossing her arms over herself angrily. If she could just concentrate on being angry…

"They've been watching me, Smith. They know where I live. They know what my hacker name is. They know where I work. They know everything," she heard her voice crack in her own terror, coughing to relieve herself. She couldn't be weak, especially in front of Smith.

"That's a good thing, Elise," he assured her, turning the car back on the street. "We wanted this to happen."

"Yeah, well it's not your privacy that's being violated by them," she muttered, half-hoping he didn't hear.

"Tell me about what happened." It would have been a nice gesture, if his tone didn't tell her it was not a request or an attempt at comforting, it was a flat-out order.

Elise felt the storm of emotion coming on, just before she spilled out every incident she'd gone through in the last two days. She had gotten so caught up in it all, she even mentioned the old lady in the park, the man who'd been with her, and the strange man who'd sold her fish for dinner.

It was strange, having such a "heart-to-heart" with Smith…but you couldn't really call it that, since the whole time he was perfectly quiet, perfectly still, not the slightest change coming over his features, even when Elise told him about the elevator, and her laptop.

"Are you _listening_ to me?" she demanded angrily, in the exact same tone she had used to use with…James…before he'd died.

"It's rather difficult _not_ to listen to you, Miss Roberts, when you lose control of yourself, and begin yelling," he answered in that dull monotone he always used.

There was silence in the car for a long moment. "Where are we going?" Elise asked, trying to break the stiff silence. He hadn't commented further on anything she'd told him, but like all of Smith's weird habits, she just ignored it.

"I have to give you a full run-down of your mission," he stated as an answer.

Elise waited another moment. "So?" she prodded him on, waiting for him to begin.

He was silent for a moment. "Don't believe a word they say. They have powerful methods, Miss Roberts. Morpheus thrives off the weak-minded and easily persuaded. _Gullible_, as you would say. If you give into his lies, he has claimed you too, and you will therefore be just another pawn in his grand—"

"I swear, you must have your monologues written on your glasses or something," she muttered, fiddling with the recliner built into the seat. She made the chair go up, down, forward, backward, finding it all surprisingly amusing.

Smith clenched his hands around the steering wheel, like the sound of the motor annoyed him. Which it did. "Morpheus will, no doubt, give you drugs. They will make you hallucinate, make you believe your seeing things that aren't real." He tried to continue, though he knew Elise wasn't really listening.

She found a round button on the bottom of the seat, between the seat and the passenger door, and found by pressing it, she could make some kind of pole thing on the inside of the chair roll around on her back, massaging it.

Smith took a long deep breath through his nose. "He can make you hallucinate about anything he—"

Elise nodded, "Yeah, yeah. Okay, I get it," she muttered, pressing the "on" button for the radio, switching to her favorite station. The awkward tension between them was driving her crazy. "Oh! I love this song!" she smiled, exclaiming.

Turning the volume up, she began rocking to the beat of "Hot 'n' Cold" (by Kate Perry). Smith felt his teeth grind together as the music filled the car, his hands squeezing dents into the steering wheel.

"'Cause you're hot then you're cold, you're yes then you're no! In, then you're out, up then you're down!" Elise began singing off-key, yelling, more than singing the lyrics to the song.

Smith, determined to appear "calm", though he was far from it, reached over casually, turning off the radio. "Miss Roberts, it is vital we—"

"Hey! What gives! That's like _my_ song!" she complained, turning the radio back on. "…Just like twins! So in sync! The same, energy, now's a dead, battery!" she began singing again.

"_Miss Roberts_!" Smith pounded it off again. "We are talking about your—"

"Song first," she reached over, turning it back on. "—I should know, that you're not gonna' change—"

"_This _is actually important!" Smith turned it off again.

"_It_ can wait." Elise turned it on.

"It is _my_ car, Miss Roberts." He nearly broke the button when his hand came down on it.

"It is _my_ song!" She reached around his hand when he tried to stop her.

"Miss Roberts! Could you please _try_ and control yourself?" he pushed her away, turning it off.

"Could you please _try_ and stop acting like such—" she pressed it on, turning the volume up louder.

"_Miss_ _Roberts_!" he raised his voice into a yell again.

"_Mister Smith_!" she answered with a nasally tone, turning the radio back on.

"I am warning you, Miss Roberts! I _loathe_ that song!" He leaned over with his shoulders, barely glancing at the road, trying to get her to _stop with the confounded radio already_.

"Stop being such a baby!" She tried to shove his hands away.

"That is _it_, Miss Roberts!" he yelled, holding her wrists with one hand, his head turned towards her. "If you do not stop, I will be forced to—"

"Old lady at 12 o' clock!" Elise shrieked, lurching backwards.

Smith's head turned just in time to see the sweet-looking, elderly lady walking on the crossing, turning to stare, eyes wide, mouth hung open at the car speeding straight for her. She covered her face, not even trying to get away, when Smith's foot smashed against the break, nearly giving Elise (since programs can't get it) whiplash, or sending her through the windshield.

The front bumper of the car was three and a half inches away from the old woman's shins.

Elise's eyes were wide as plates, and Smith had to blink a few times to relieve himself.

The whole intersection was very quiet. Every car, every motorcycle, every bicyclist, and every pedestrian had stopped to stare.

Elise's hair was partly over her face, and she held her hands in front of her, hovering over the dashboard.

"…Um…I think we should see if she's okay…" Elise suggested after a long moment.

"Yes," Smith agreed, unbuckling, and opening the door for himself, straightening out his clothes, smoothing his tie, well aware he was being analyzed by at least thirty pairs of eyes. "Are you alright—er—ma'am?"

Elise stumbled out of her own door, around to the front of the car.

The woman, a pale, blue-haired lady looked from Smith, to Elise, to Smith again, before breaking down in a long list of yelled insults, demanding to know why nobody could drive any more, before storming off in a huff.

Smith and Elise climbed back into the car, not needing all the encouragement from the honking, impatient drivers around them.

"That was…" Elise began, biting her lips together.

"Your fault," Smith finished her sentence, driving off again.

"What? No," Elise defended, dragging out her answer.

"Oh, yes," Smith copied her tone, nodding.

Elise turned to look at him, letting a snicker pass her lips.

He raised an eyebrow, only turning slightly to look at her. She laughed harder, looking straight ahead, laughing away all the strain she'd been under. Smith's lips quivered, like he _wanted_ to laugh, and Elise was fairly certain she saw the corners of his mouth turn up in what looked like a smile, though she couldn't be sure.

When Elise had laughed enough, she leaned back against her seat, bobbed her head to the tune that was still stuck in her head. "Do you mind swinging by the store? I have to pick up some food for dinner, and—"

"No trouble at all." Smith switched lanes. "You know how I _love_ mingling with other," he leaned over the steering wheel, to look out the side window before he turned, it was a stupid thing to be so overly careful about his driving when he'd never been in an accident, since he was programmed to drive, but being around Elise seemed to make him less aware. "_Charming_ human beings." He sneered at the words, but Elise snickered again, looking out her window.

"You are such a…" she tried to find the right word.

"Good driver when you aren't in the car?" he offered.

"Ha. Yeah right. You drive like a girl."

…………………………………………………………………

_Meanwhile, in the Nebuchadnezzar_

……………………………………………………………………………

"You have _got_ to be kidding Morpheus." Cypher gave Morpheus a dirty look.

"It was my fault her husband died, what do you expect me to do? Plus, look at the data Chip, Flash and the others got off her. Even _Dozer_ thinks this is a good thing," Morpheus had gotten tired of Cypher's pessimism.

"Something isn't right about that one," Cypher sneered. "I'm telling you Morpheus. I have the chills about this Elise lady. When we were following her, she seemed a little _too_ scared of us. You saw the way she acted when we contacted her through the elevator. Her heart was playing jump rope. I didn't sign-up to get killed because you go all soft on a widow."

"The Oracle told me I would find 'the One'." Morpheus gave Cypher a look, telling him to be quiet.

"Here we go," Cypher muttered, turning away from the captain. "The Oracle said this, the Oracle said that. Look Morpheus," he turned back to face him. "I don't _care_ what the Oracle said."

"She's never been wrong. Host is the best shot we have. She could be it." Morpheus's tone was clear and direct, it was the kind of voice of someone who expects to be obeyed.

"Okay fine, I'll play this little game with you Morpheus," Cypher leaned against the metal wall. "Let's pretend this 'Host' person is 'the One', then tell me, why did she freak-out the way she did? Huh? Can you explain that? Why do you think 'the One' is a girl anyway? This 'Host' person is a little passed the age for unplugging, isn't she?" Cypher shrugged.

"We haven't heard of anything the Oracle has said to assume 'the One' is a man," Morpheus contradicted. "And as I recall, _you_ were unplugged past the usual age too, and you turned out just fine. I will do as I see fit, Cypher, and if you don't like it…" Cypher waited for Morpheus to continue, but Morpheus didn't know what to say. "Then that's too bad, isn't it? I am the captain of this ship, sir."

Cypher gave him one last bitter look, before leaving him in the metal hallway of the dim ship. _I never _asked_ to be unplugged. If I'd gotten my way, I would still be in the Matrix, oblivious to all of this._

……………………………………………………………………………………

_Back in the Matrix, in a mostly empty grocery store_

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Smith didn't _know_ why he'd come along. He could have just waited in the car, or told Elise that her shopping could wait.

Then again, he'd never been inside a grocery store, he'd never needed to…and he thought it could, perhaps, be remotely interesting.

"Is this place too public for a run-down on my _mission_?" Elise asked, grabbing a small shopping basket from a stack, and heading down the dairy aisle. She hadn't really had a chance to finish her shopping, since the last time she'd been to the store she'd been too scared of the people following her to concentrate on her list.

Turning to look at Smith, Elise sputtered a small laugh. She didn't know why it was so funny to see him standing in a grocery store (in his sunglasses of course, because he never took those things off), but it was. He glanced up and down, like he'd never been in one before.

_That's ridiculous. Even Captain Stiff's probably had to go buy his own food once in a while._ Elise assured herself, grabbing a small pack of yogurt that Rebecca liked.

"It might do," Smith said slowly, doing that weird thing with his mouth, like he had some chewed cracker stuck in his gums. "There isn't much instruction I can _give_ you, Elise, you'll have to improvise."

"It won't be…like…life-threatening…right?" she asked slowly. The question had been plaguing her mind for some time now.

Smith didn't answer at first, pretending to be reading a carton of milk. "Tell me, Elise, who do you think came up with the idea of drinking another animal's milk?"

Elise cracked a smile. "The same one who pointed to a chicken and said, 'I'm going to eat the first thing that comes out of that thing's butt'." She amused herself, knowing Smith would think it wasn't funny, but she almost thought she saw that strange hint of a smile, before it vanished. "You didn't answer _my_ question, though," she reminded, leading him towards the bakery section of the store.

One small girl with a sample cookie in her hand ran by them, laughing to her mother, pointing to the cookie. Smith's eyes followed the child as she ran to her mother, throwing her arms around her neck, squealing with giddy delight.

"Perhaps," Smith answered.

"That's reassuring," Elise muttered, comparing the prices on bread.

The girl's head rose as she spotted Smith and a smile came over her face. She waved a hand at him, the hand that held her "precious" cookie. Elise noticed this, and laughed quietly. Her cookie broke in half and fell to the floor. The little girl stared down at it for a moment before jutting out her bottom lip and erupting into tears.

Smith's face contorted into a look of disdain for the whining human youngling. "Why must they cry over such trvial things?" he asked in an undertone.

Elise smiled. "Don't you know? Cookies need love, like everything does."

Smith arched an eyebrow, but Elise was looking back at the various human food items. The mother tried distracting her daughter with a small toy, then simply gave the child a new cookie, which made her tears evaporate.

"It is very unlikely any harm could possibly come to you, Elise," Smith tried to make his voice more assuring. His eyes flickered back to the child, now walking away with her mother. "Why didn't you and your husband have children?" he asked. _It's just to make her trust me._ He assured himself when he felt a prickle of anger for asking such a _human_ question.

Elise raised an eyebrow, turning back to Smith, leading him to a different aisle for flour. "You're seriously asking me this question? Me? A mother?" she cast him a partially amused look. "I don't think so." Her hands searched through the shelves, looking for the familiar brown paper bag of all-purpose flour.

"Why not?"

"Because, if you haven't noticed, I have enough on my plate with the whole 'finding my husband's murderer' and my job, my roommates eating all my food and—" she stood, her eyes looking at the bag of flour instead of where she was going so she was surprised to see Smith _so close_.

"Hm," he observed, grunting the sound through his chest.

……………………………

_Later that day_

………………………………………

Smith had told her everything she could think of to ask, sitting in his car in the parking lot by her apartment building. He'd answered in that same tone he always used…but with less…blank-ness.

_"The Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day."_ Elise heard the words in her head. _Ha. More like 0.0001 sizes._

Then, when she'd finished asking all her questions, using every excuse she could think of to stay in his amazingly comfortable car, he had slipped in a few questions that…didn't make sense. At least not coming from Smith.

He asked her things like: "Why do you bother getting out of bed every morning?" and "What is your purpose?" They were questions that seemed way too deep for some business suit like Smith. He had even asked her if not having children made her "goal in life" impossible to accomplish.

"It's a changing world, Smith," she'd answered with a smirk on her face. "Women are _doing_ things now." Then she'd felt stupid, because, even though she wouldn't tell Smith, because it really wasn't any of his business to know, but _not_ having had a child made her miss James even more. If she'd had a child with his DNA, his traits somewhere in him…or her, it would have made James not being there easier.

Then they'd sat in silence for a moment. But it wasn't the same kind of stiff, awkward silence she always had felt around him.

She didn't know why, but it wasn't so…horrible as it had been before.

Smith was playing his role so perfectly, he almost had himself fooled…almost.

He'd observed humans countless times, and it had repaid him.

He didn't push the human Elise out of his car, instead, letting her stay there, pretending to "watch the sun set" with her, although he was _really_ thinking of…other things.

He was playing his role with such flawlessness, one could almost think he _was_ human. _Almost_.

"So…um…I guess I'll be seeing you around?" Elise opened her own door for herself, stepping out with her hands full of groceries.

"Yes." Smith nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Okay…and…you know…if my mission goes wrong," she waved a joking fist. "Uh, help me, and…stuff."

Smith raised an eyebrow. His role was even so perfect he allowed himself a half-smile at the human. "Yes, of course, Elise—Miss Roberts—Elise," he corrected himself.

Elise nodded with a smile on her lips. "Okay. See you." She breathed in deeply when her back was turned to Smith. _See, Elise? That wasn't so horrible, was it?_

* * *

..._So_? C'mon reviews, reviews, reviews!

Tell me if Elise's song was bad. (I thought it was kind of funny, but that's just me.) Cut me a bit of slack with Elise's immaturity though...I mean she was incredibly relieved that she was safe (apparently), and Smith is kind of a stiff. So yeah, please review with whatever insults or kudos or whatever you feel like yelling at me. You know, whatever. Okay, rant over.

* * *


	6. It Ain't Over Till the Fat Man Yells

I have no life, so that's why I'm posting this so soon after the last one. Anyway, I like reviews. (If you haven't noticed.) There's either going to be one more chapter after this, or two, but I know how its all going to end...and yeah. Okay, here it is.

_

* * *

…What was that?_

Her brain was pounding inside her skull, her throat tickled with the hammering of her blood, and she had a fluttery feeling inside her stomach. She leaned against her apartment door, breathing, and trying to think of something else.

Something that wasn't…_him_.

She closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling with her breath, but it didn't calm her.

After a moment, she forced herself to open her eyes, and get dinner ready, since it was already six, but she didn't feel like eating.

She stood, locked her apartment door, kicked off her high heels, took off her coat, and tossed her purse on the counter, to start making dinner.

Tina and Rebecca were in the living room, which was only a different room than the kitchen and front, talking in concentrated tones over open magazines of wedding dresses and bridal gowns.

Elise's blue eyes flickered to the white, lacy dresses, darting away quickly. _You tried that before, and look how well it turned out._

"Hey Lise." Tina squinted a little, like Elise's appearance was strange. "What's up?"

She her friend a weary smile, her bare feet chilling against the linoleum of the kitchen floor. "Nothing. What do you guys want for dinner?" She set the bags of groceries down on the counter, taking her time putting them away. "I can make pasta," she shrugged to her friends, furrowing her brow, pretending to be deep in thought. "Or pasta…or pasta."

Tina laughed, "As always."

"We could order in?" Jessica offered.

"You guys've been eating so much junk food you're going to get diabetes." Elise gave them a look, lifting the heavy jug of orange juice off the counter, into the fridge.

Jessica gave an amused, sarcastic groan. "It's like you're my mother," she complained, though her tone was joking.

That made Elise pause, the open door of the fridge chilling her legs even more. _Mother._ The word stuck in her brain.

After a moment, she shook that thought away. _No…no…that's stupid._ She assured herself, closing the door of the refrigerator.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Far away, outside the city, about an hour's drive from Elise's apartment_

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Agent Sully glanced over his shoulder, down the driveway. The light from the fake sunset reflected off his shiny Audi, parked on the pavement in front of the small, one-story house. He'd left his sunglasses on the front seat of the car, and had taken off his earpiece forty miles back, leaving it under a rock he would be able to find again.

Analyzing himself in his mind, and going over his car a few times, a smile spread over his face. _Perfect. As always._

Taking a deep breath of the air, slowly getting colder as the Matrix's winter grew nearer for the Northern Hemisphere.

He walked to the small door, where a little figurine of a gnome had fallen over. He picked it up, straightening out the small pot of wilting flowers. He'd brought new ones, red roses, her favorite.

He held the bouquet in his hand as he rang the doorbell.

He heard footsteps down the stairs, and the wooden door open. She stood on the other side of the glass, having just returned from work.

Realizing it was him, she yanked the door open, throwing her arms around his neck, laughing. "It took you long enough." She said into his shoulder.

He nodded. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry."

She pulled herself away from the hug to look at him, to make sure he hadn't changed, which, of course, he hadn't. "What are the flowers for?" she puckered her brow, looking at the roses with worry. "What'd you do?"

He rolled his eyes, handing her the bouquet. "Thank you so much. That makes me feel wonderful. Am I not permitted to dote on my fiancée?"

She blinked at him. "…Fiancée?" she repeated.

Sully grinned, getting down on one knee, and pulling out a small velvet jewelry box. "Well?"

Her mouth hung open a moment, her bottom lip quivering, before she fell to the ground, smiling from ear-to-ear, laughing. "Sully!" She felt foolish tears of joy bubble up in her eyes. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

………………………………………………………………………

_A day later, in the Nebechanezzer_

………………………………………………………

"Her name is Denise Taylor," Cypher pointed.

"Why would I care?" Morpheus asked.

"Remember the person called 'Trinity' who hacked the IRS a few years back?" Flash crossed her arms.

Morpheus glanced at the Matrix feed, and back to his crew. "Denise Taylor?" he asked. "She did it?"

Flash nodded, "Uh huh."

"I thought Trinity was a guy," Morpheus murmured under his breath.

"Most guys would," Flash called over her shoulder, as she walked away.

"So?" Cypher asked, when he'd caught the captain mostly alone, but Dozer didn't really count.

"So what?"

"So? Look, I got you a better catch than that Elise Roberts lady. All this 'Host' person's done is hack a few tickets away, and skim a decent amount from her taxes. But this 'Trinity' has cracked the IRS."

"Why not both?" Dozer suggested, fiddling around with some controls. "The more minds we free the better, right?"

"Good point," Morpheus smiled thankfully at Dozer, who wasn't looking, so he patted him on the back.

Cypher curled his top lip up in anger. "Yes, sir. Captain, sir," he muttered with a sneer. _I don't feel right about this Host…something isn't right about her._

……………………………………

_Two days later_

……………………………

Smith was "at work" (or that was the excuse he'd given the Elise), feeling…irritated. Agents Brown and Jones, who'd been released when they were deemed "operational" again, were sitting perfectly still in the chairs they had in the large building the humans used for their pathetic police officers. Smith had never noticed how slow the average day was, and how little he really seemed to do in one.

The Architect had called them, ordering them to wait while he ran some "tests" on a subject. Smith didn't ask questions, he wasn't supposed to, but waiting for two hours and forty-one minutes wasn't his idea of an ideal assignment.

Finally, after waiting for three hours and twelve minutes, the white door leading into the Architect's white room, one of his many hidden within the Matrix, opened, and the three Agents rose in unison, entering the room.

Smith stood in front of Jones and Brown, as he always did, glancing around the white room. The door behind them closed, and the Architect, who was sitting in his white leather recliner, turned his head slightly. "Agents Smith, Brown, Jones." He nodded to them. "Do you know why I have called you here?" It was a rhetorical question, the Architect didn't _want_ them to know, which is why they didn't. "A report," the Architect leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on the armrests, the tips of his fingers aligning in an authoritative pose. "Of an alarming nature reached me this morning." He gave them all a searching look. "I didn't think it was possible," he confessed, "but it appears, there was a problem with a certain program's code." He turned his chair towards a perfectly white, smooth wall. The lights in the room faded, and an image appeared on a screen that came down from the ceiling.

It was of a small, one-story house in a quaint suburban neighborhood. Redbrick, with a brown roof. The house had a green lawn, and a small aspen sapling grew there. Across the street, two children were playing ball, and an older group of children and their parents road by on bicycles.

Smith didn't understand the significance of it.

The video sped up. The light changed on the trees and houses, showing the false sun of the Matrix was moving. The video returned to normal at a time that would appear to be near sunset. Then, down the street, it's slick surface shining, came one, black Audi.

Smith's forehead furrowed, and he looked at the video with curiosity. The car drove up the driveway of the house the camera appeared to be resting on(if they had needed a camera to get the imaging, which they probably didn't), and the door opened.

Smith's forehead creased deeper when he recognized the Agent that stepped out of the car. Agent Sully. What was so important about him?

His sunglasses were gone, and the earpiece all the Agents were supposed to wear at all times was too…and he carried a bouquet of flowers.

Sully walked up to where Smith assumed the door was, presenting the flowers to a young human woman.

Smith eyes followed the brief exchange between the two, before Sully joined the woman inside the small house.

The image paused just before Sully stepped inside.

"I didn't believe it when I first heard," the Architect turned back around, the screen turned black, and the lights came back on. "It was ridiculous. Absurd. Illogical. Impossible. But you saw it yourself." The Architect sneered. "I've never heard of such a thing! Think of one of your own, becoming _attached_ to a human!"

"What happened to Agent Sully?" Smith asked before he could think twice about it.

"He," the Architect's tone became pompous and heavy again. "Was deleted. Permanently."

"What did he do exactly?" Agent Jones inquired.

The Architect gave a dry, humorless smile. "He was in_ love_ with the human."

"That's impossible," Agent Brown joined in.

"I had always thought so," the Architect continued. "But it appears I was wrong." The Architect's eyes gave hints at his anger for the flaw in the Agent Sully's code, but it was gone in a moment. "This will never happen again. We will not allow it." Behind the Architect, the screen showed the image of the woman from the house…dead. "The woman was killed," the Architect told them in a dull tone. "For obvious reasons. The possibility she could have known of the Matrix was higher than we could allow."

_Any possibility._ Smith didn't correct the Architect. _No_ one corrected the Architect.

"How did we find them?" Jones asked.

"I created the Matrix, Agent Jones. I have my ways," the Architect told him. "Although his own behavior out-did him. There were changes in his very code. The very boldly defined line between us and _them_ was blurred in Agent Sully. One could hardly tell whether he was a program, or _human_."

If Smith was human, he would have found what the Architect said impossible to believe. But he was _not_ human. He wasn't programmed to _believe_ anything. He knew, or he didn't. The Architect had told him it was so, so it was so.

……………………………………

_The next day_

………………………

Did Mister Dutton _ever_ shut up? He was the worst boss in the history of worst bosses! Working for _Ghengis Khan _was probably more fun!

Elise glowered at the wall of her small office, and the door Mister Dutton had left through. He was an idiot. "Elise! Give me that layout by the end of the week! Elise! Make sure to add initials to the Beta! Elise! Hurry up with the code for Box 11! Elise! Do this! Elise! Do that!" she muttered furiously, mimicking his whiny, girly voice with scorn.

She leaned over on her chair, opening her small file cabinet, trying to find that quote sheet he "needed". _Someday, when the old guy's dead (what is he? Like 200?) I'm going to finally run my own life!_

It was like her father all over again! Except when she'd gotten allowance, it wasn't so horribly aggravating. Sometimes she wanted to toss herself off a bridge, or pound a hole in her head—no, better yet, _his_ head. Mister Dutton's fat head was just _begging_ to be beaten in with a lead pipe!

_Violent much, Elise?_ She thought to herself.

Failing to find the quote sheet, she got off her chair, on her knees, rummaging through the files, muttering bitterly, when the phone on her desk rang. Raising her head out of habit, she hit herself against the bottom of her desk, cursing at the sudden pain.

"Someone's going to die for that," she spat, continuing her tantrum, rubbing her head, as she seized the phone. "Yeah, what?" she spat with acidy venom to her tone.

"…Elise?" she didn't recognize the voice. It was some male…wait…she kind of did…

"How did you get this number?" she demanded harshly. "I'm in the middle of a whole—"

"Listen carefully to me—" Wait…that sounded like the guy from the _elevator_! It was them!

Elise felt her heart rate accelerate, and her thoughts began to race.

"_Roberts_!" the annoyingly whiny voice called from the hall. "I need assistance!"

"Wait!" she yelled back. "Hello?"

"If you still want to know what the Matrix is, meet us at—" the dark voice spoke, despite her boss's yelling.

"Wait, hang on!" she pleaded, fumbling through her top drawer for paper and a pen.

"_Roberts_!" her boss yelled again. "Where is that _spreadsheet_ I needed?" he demanded angrily.

"—80th Plaza and—" the voice wouldn't slow down or hesitate in the slightest.

"_Wait_!" she yelled both the to man on the phone and the one in charge of her career.

"_ROBERTS_!"

"—and Olson Avenue—"

"_Does the soup-line sound appealing_?!_ Because that's where you'll be if you aren't here in ten seconds_!"

"—at 12 tonight—"

"_ROBERTS_!"

"—a car will be there to pick you up—"

"_Five_! _Four_!" her boss began counting down, and as soon as she was sure the man on the phone had hung up, and she had everything he'd said written down, she scrambled for the door of her office, down the hall, panting to where her boss (who, himself, could afford to lose a few pounds) remembering she'd forgotten the spreadsheet.

"Sorry, sir." She handed him the sheet he'd wanted, after running back to her office, and back down to his.

Mister Dutton gave her a long angry look, his right eyelid, that was partly closed, twitching with his impatience. "Just what is so important I had to wait," he checked his watch, "two minutes to get this? Who were you talking to? Huh? Your _boyfriend_? Is that it? You want to lose your job? Huh? Huh?" Little bits of spit from his rage hit her, though she cringed from his yelling.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir. It won't happen again, sir." She was careful not to grimace until after his large back was turned to her, but not before he'd given her a long angry glare.

She closed the door to her tiny office behind her, glancing at the pad of paper. "_80__th__ Plaza and Olson Ave. at 12_", it read in her sloppy, rushed handwriting. Smith would need to know about it right away.

Glancing over her shoulder, to the closed door, she could still her Mister Dutton's angry ranting at some intern. _Maybe I'll wait till my lunch break._

_

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So? (Click the review button. __Click it noooow! The button tempts you! You cannot resist! Review it! Review!_)

Yes. I am incredibly immature. I know.

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	7. Oodles of Noodles

Don't own Matrix.

Here is where romance begins. I love this chapter a lot, but its kind of short. There's more I've written, but I liked the way this chapter left you. Okay, so here we go, and review.

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"Hello?" Elise pressed a finger against her other ear, trying to block out the noise around her. Maybe the call got dropped. "Are you there?"

There was silence for a moment. "Are you sure it was them?" Smith asked.

"Yeah, I wrote it all down," she assured him. "So…um…what am I supposed to do? Just go with them? What am I going to tell Christina, or Rebecca, or Jessica? Or," she groaned, "my boss?"

"It will all be taken care of," Smith pushed that concern aside, very obviously not concerned in the least about the girls or Mister Dutton. "But are you _sure_?"

"…Yes."

"_Positive_?"

"Yes."

"One hundred percent sure?"

"Yeah." Elise rolled her eyes.

"There is no doubt in your mind at all?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, Smith. Who _else_ would it be? And I recognized the voice from the elevator."

Smith mumbled something, something that easily said _as if you could possibly be sure of something like that_. "We'll have the call tracked. Just to be sure, since you can't be."

Elise was getting more than a little annoyed by now. "Would it kill you to trust me on this? And I _am_ sure. For crying out loud, Smith, I told you, I _know_ what I heard."

Smith let out a breath on the other end, and it was silent for a moment. "Then yes…I suppose you should go."

She nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her. "How am I supposed to contact you once I'm 'in'?"

"Leave that to us." Smith had used that line with her so many times: "we have our ways," "we know what we're doing," "it's what we do," "leave it to us," the same line over and over again…but it was probably true.

"Okay," Elise complied.

"You remember everything I've told you about him?"

"Yeah."

"Then you should be…fine," Smith did that thing where his words sound like he was encouraging her, but his tone said she was probably going to die.

There was silence on the phone again…a very long silence. The only sound seemed to be the breathing on the other end, the only sign either of them were still alive…_ Or exsisting._ Smith thought to himself. _Programs don't live._

"…So…um…bye, I-I guess," Elise broke the silence.

"We still have plenty of time before you have to go," Smith slipped in, unsure why he did.

Elise was taken aback for a moment, "We?"

Smith didn't catch his mistake until it was too late. "Well, yes, I have to make sure you're ready."

Elise managed a laugh. "Trust me, Smith. I'm ready. We've gone over it a hundred times."

"Twenty-four," he corrected.

"Oh. Yeah. Right," Elise couldn't help but smile. "So…I'll be seeing you around?"

He nodded, though she couldn't see. "Yes, yes, I suppose you will…as soon as the mission is complete. Remember not to trust them and—"

Elise groaned. "I _know_."

"Yes, yes, sorry." _Sorry_? He had just apologized to a human?

"What about work?" Elise didn't seem to notice anything strange, so Smith pretended he didn't either.

"Yes of course, it's been taken care of. A Mister Dutton, I believe, is under the impression you are visiting your sick sister in Belize. You're excused for two months."

"Two months?!" Elise didn't mean to yell.

Smith had forgotten time was different to humans. Programs didn't really pay attention to time passing, since they couldn't die. "Just to be safe."

"Okay…if you say so."

"I did say so."

"I'm going to go for a walk…clear my head."

"Your friends will be given some kind of excuse for you leaving too," Smith promised. He just didn't want her to hang up. He didn't want her to go to meet Morpheus either. What if they convinced her of the truth? She'd be another rebel he was shooting at…and Agents have perfect aim.

Even if she didn't believe them and they caught Morpheus and his band. Then what? She'd be plugged in on their ship and out of the Matrix. Sooner or later the Sentinels would be after her and she'd be killed.

"Okay…thanks Smith..." she paused, "Uh…Smith?"

"Yes?"

"…Since I'm leaving, and I don't really know when I'm going to be back, do you, uh, maybe want to go for that drink after all? It could be a real quick one," Elise felt stupid saying those words to Smith.

Smith was quiet. "No, no thank you, Miss Roberts. It would be better if we weren't around each other at the moment."

"Oh…okay." She hung up the phone.

Smith didn't care that the dial tone was ringing in his ear, he didn't care that Agents Brown and Jones were probably looking at him strangely from across the room, where they couldn't hear his voice, he didn't even care that he didn't understand what was happening anymore.

Elise was leaving.

There would be no way for her to come back. She'd be killed sooner or later.

At very best, she might go to Zion, the city the humans had built miles under ground where the Earth's molten core still kept them warm.

He closed the phone, slipping it into his suit pocket, strutting over to where the other two Agents stood.

"The human Elise Roberts is meeting with Morpheus and his band of revolutionaries tonight," Smith informed them.

Jones and Brown nodded. "I think it's a good thing the human won't be around you anymore," Brown let him know.

"Why is that?" Smith kept his tone droll.

"You heard the Architect," Jones continued.

"Sully was a malfunctioning program," Smith assured them, annoyed. "Nothing more. That's all it was, a system error."

"Let us hope so." Brown raised an eyebrow.

……………………………………………………

_At the park, half an hour later_

…………………………………………………

This was where she'd seen that strange old lady.

Elise glanced around the park, where the trees were all lighting up the scene with the colors of fall. The old woman was nowhere to be seen.

Elise walked, swinging her hands, and filling her lungs with the crisp air.

Maybe she'd jumped into the undercover thing too quickly, maybe she should have thought it through a few more times. Maybe she should have looked before she leapt. She couldn't get out of it now.

There was a twisting feeling in stomach, something resembling stage fright in her stomach. _Calm down, you heard him, he said you'd be fine, and he wouldn't lie._

Yeah, that was the other thing. There was something else in their, something that had nothing to do with meeting a serial killer.

Smith.

_That is so stupid. Shut up, Elise. You don't know what you're talking about._

Smith.

_No. He's a business suit, that's all._

Smith.

_You said yourself, he has no heart. He's just a stiff._

Smith.

_Look at it this way, he doesn't care about you as anything more than someone working for him, does he? No. So don't waste your time with that teenage drama, okay?_

Elise looked down at her feet. _Yeah. Nothing more than someone working for him._

_Good girl. If he liked you, he'd show some kind of sign, wouldn't he?_

Elise knew that part of her was right. Besides, why did she care? She didn't need to start all over on the heartbreak road. She just wanted to live her own life, without having to depend on anyone else.

She was just turning to go by the tiny creek, when she felt a drop of water on her hand. Rain. Great. It started as a weak kind of dribble, but the rain became heavier and bigger, and she had to run for cover, pulling her coat over her head.

But as she ran under the shelter of a flower store awning, she could have sworn she saw a man in a black business suit with sunglasses disappear behind a tree.

…………………

_Later_

……………

Smith paced back and forth, in front of the window in his office. This was no reason to get fidgety. Since he was an _Agent_ there was _never_ any reason to get fidgety, because programs never got fidgety.

Morpheus was a disgusting, inferior, filthy, unintelligent, weak human, but he would make sure Elise was looked after.

_What about when this is all over? What will Elise think of you? How long will she be allowed to live outside the Matrix? She can't be plugged back in, you know._

The artificial thunder boomed outside his window. What if she were struck by lightning? What if she were hit by a car? What if she found out the truth about him?

_She's a human!_ his more intelligent side barked.

Jones and Brown had finally left him alone to his thoughts and internal arguments. "The Architect gave specific orders that no program is to let itself, or trick itself, into believing that it is in love with a human."

"It would cripple our efforts."

"It's inefficient."

They'd gone on and on and on to him.

"I am fully aware of that," Smith sneered at them, thoroughly agitated by them.

"Your Audi is bugged now," Brown had let him know.

"If you are within five miles of the human's position," Jones cut in.

"Until she is unplugged," Brown added.

"You will have to answer to the Architect."

They'd finally left, but Smith almost wished they hadn't.

When they were there to distract him into being annoyed, it was easier to ignore thoughts of Elise and the less intelligent side of him that had been growing increasingly strong.

_…Hang on,_ the unintelligent side advised, _they said your _car_ was bugged._

………………………

_That night_

………………

It was her last meal in the comfort of her own kitchen. Tomorrow she'd be undercover with a serial killer. She'd gotten used to the routine of the girls going out, and staying home, but she'd wished they'd stayed long enough for her to at least say goodbye.

She'd miss them like crazy.

Sighing again, feeling overly depressed, she stirred the thin block of noodles in the boiling water.

She'd turned on the radio, but kept the music down so it was almost drowned out from the sound of the water boiling. Her head raised, as she heard the familiar opening notes, the pumping beat reaching her. "You, change your mind, like a girl, changes clothes," the singer sang.

She bit her bottom lip, feeling a touch of bile rise in her throat, and acidy tears behind her eyes.

She turned off the radio, and coughed. "Look at yourself, Elise. The least emotional song in the history of the world, and it's making you cry. What a loser you are." She shook her head at herself, turning off the stove, and filling her bowl with the still raw, unseasoned noodles.

………………………………

_Half an hour later_

………………………

Elise had been feeling miserable, and when she'd finally decided to get up from the table, it was only to go and flop down on the bed. She couldn't trust herself to go to sleep, even if her insides had been quiet enough for that to be possible, because she would oversleep the set time.

She had been laying on her bed for about five minutes, letting herself be miserable, and have her stupid daydreams about…well…being with _Smith_.

She hadn't seen a man like that since she'd married James, and had never really gotten over him. She didn't want to replace James, she wasn't so desperate to resort to that, but she didn't stop herself from daydreaming about him.

She glanced at the clock. 9:12.

Now every emotion she could think of was running amuck inside her. Dread, worry, lovesickness, weariness...lazy, bored, hungry (those noodles just didn't do it) and bored…but most of those weren't emotions. Not that it mattered.

She pulled herself up from the bed, trudging down the short hallway into the dim apartment. The only lights on were in the kitchen and by the television, so for a moment she thought maybe she'd gone asleep, and was dreaming, because she hadn't heard him come in.

"Elise," Smith panted, staring at her, sopping wet, his glasses off (for once) and dripping on her kitchen floor.

"…Smith? What are you doing in—" she took a few cautious steps towards him. "Why are you all wet?"

Before she understood fully what was happening, two very wet arms were around her waist in what appeared to be a hug of some kind. Blinking up at his face, looking much less dreary and depressing than she had ever seen it. His face was two inches from her, and she held her breath, waiting.

_Is this it? What is this? Oh great, now I'm all wet!_ She didn't know where to look, what to do, resigning herself to blinking at his face.

He closed his eyes, taking a long pull of air in through his nose. His eyes fluttered open and confusion flashed across his face. "You don't stink," he told her, like it shocked him, and his wet arms let go.

Stumbling back with surprise, she furrowed her brow, more confused at him now than she ever remembered being. "What do you mean 'I don't stink'?" she turned her head down, pressing her nose to her shoulder, sniffing, just in case she did stink.

Smith pointed a finger at her. "You—you're—"

"Smith, are you feeling alright?" She felt a pang of worry. "I thought you said we weren't supposed to be near each other because of the—Smith?" she took a step towards him, and another step back.

He was staring at his hands, his mouth open in pure shock. His eyes were open wide, but his eyebrows were narrowed. He turned his head from side to side, staring at his hands. "What is this? What _is _this?"

"Smith? Do you need a doctor?" She took two steps towards him, and he fell to his knees. Elise, thinking he had pneumonia or something horrible like that, slid down to him, not even noticing the friction created between her knees and the linoleum of her kitchen floor had hurt her.

"No, no, this is wrong, this is…unnatural, it's, it's impossible, it's—" Smith was murmuring to himself, his tone rising as he went.

"Smith," she kept her tone calm, trying to get him to stand. "We're going to take you to the hospital, okay? You don't look well." She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to look at her, and stop shaking his head and asking himself questions.

"I don't need a hospital," he told her, shaking his head, and staring down at his hands.

"Yes, you really do," she assured him. "What is this?" She pointed to his earpiece. "It's going to get shorted out by all this water." She picked up the cord in her hand, thinking he'd snap at her, but he didn't.

His eyes turned to her, bright blue and unblinking. His mouth hung open, and he swayed back and forth in a pulsing little movement with his breath that was still heavy from the run or whatever had caused it.

"Elise," he spoke her name again.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, raising herself to her knees. "Yes, I'm here, what do you need? A hot-water-bottle? Thermometer? Icepack? Advil? C'mon, talk to me Smith." She ushered him on with her hands. "Tell me what you need. C'mon, think about it a moment."

His forehead was wrinkled, looking up at her, his breath still heavy, and his mouth open, not speaking.

"Smith?" Was he having amnesia?

"You," his reply was short and steady. Elise heard the power behind it, clear and defined.

"What?"

"You asked me what I need." Smith raised himself to his knees. "You," he repeated.

"Smith?" her mouth fell open partly, and she blinked at him, shocked, amazed, dazzled, mystified, whatever word you can think of that in any way can hint at being knocked off your feet with shock and happiness.

His hands, dripping water, touched her face. She didn't make any attempt to move, any attempt to think. She closed her eyes as his right thumb stroked her cheek ever so lightly. A drop of water from him trickled down her shirt, giving her goosebumps.

"But…Smith…" she breathed.

"Shh…" he cooed, and kissed her.

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Yes? No? Maybe? Perhaps? Review! Review! Review!

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	8. Hell Hath No Fury

If I owned Matrix, Neo would still be Ted. And he and Bill would be the Ones.

Thanks to everyone a billion times for reviews! It made me all happy!

Okay, this chapter took forever, I know, because until today I had decided to stop obsessing over the Matrix, and then today I thought, "what else are you going to obsess over? Batman?" (With all due respect to Bruce Wayne and Joker.)

Anyway, review.

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Smith wasn't one to disobey orders. He had been ordered not to fall in "love" with a human, and he hadn't.

It wasn't love.

Humans had said love was stupid, and he had never felt so informed. He felt as if he had been given the secret to the universe. He felt as if he were the smartest being in existence.

Humans had said love was reckless, and he had never taken such careful precautions. She must never be put in harms way, she had to stay plugged in, even if it meant the failure of the mission. Missions could be forgotten and made again.

Humans had said love leaves you empty, and he had never felt so full.

Humans had said love makes the world go round, and he felt as if the whole planet, no, the whole solar system, had stopped.

Whatever this was, it wasn't love. It was a connection, a deep, undying connection, but it couldn't be love. Love was for humans, they could keep it and be fools, but he had something else, something better. What he had was to the humans' precious "love", as the Machines were to the humans. Better, improved, refinished, buffed-up to shine and sparkle the light.

"Smith?" Elise asked, her head feeling all woozy, and a dizzy feeling coming over her.

Her voice brought him back into the false reality of the Matrix. He was about to speak, though he wasn't sure what he could say to let her understand, when the sound of feet from the hall cut him off.

Elise's head rose to the sound of the door being unlocked. "They're back," she told him, even though she knew he could hear. How could anyone _not_ hear them? From the sound of their loud happy voices, they were all wasted, if not entirely drunk.

"I'd better be going." Smith knew he had to, he knew she had to be unplugged.

Elise nodded, finding herself staring at him like a stupid lovesick high school freshman. She looked down to free herself, nodding again. "Yeah…" Angry at herself for her cowardly aversion, she looked back up to say something more meaningful before she left for her death mission…but he was gone. She hadn't heard him go, but that wasn't so surprising. The blood was rushing in her ears, deafening her, and with Smith, the unexpected was to be expected. There was something very…unnatural about him. He was definitely not a normal guy.

The only trace of him was the feeling in her head, and the puddle on the kitchen floor.

The door opened, and some number of feet trampled in. Elise was only vaguely aware of their presence, their noise just background muttering to her.

Her insides felt like they were being squeezed and warmed and shoved against the walls of her rib cage. It was a sensation she both loved and hated.

_Pathetic._ Her thoughts were bitter, and overjoyed at the same time. _There is really something wrong with you, Elise. You need help…really._

But the bitter part of her was easily won over by the overjoyed part, making her bitterness totally insignificant in comparison.

……………………………………

_2307 hours (11:07 p.m.)_

…………………………

Elise had said her goodbyes in the form of goodnights to her roommates, fully aware they meant much more to her than her friends, who were expecting her to be there when they woke up the next morning.

The apartment was quiet. The boys had left, and the girls were all asleep. Elise dressed quickly and quietly in the dark, considering taking a bag, but changing her mind at the last minute, taking only her jacket and a muffin wrapped in plastic wrap from the bowl on the counter in the kitchen. The muffin in her pocket, she grabbed the small pad of paper by the phone, writing a rushed, sloppy note for the girls.

"_I'm leaving for a few weeks. Mr. Dutton called late tonight and if I don't go now, I'll be fired. Love you all, Elise._" In the dim light from the small night-light she'd plugged in, she scanned her words, deciding it was better to lie than disappear entirely.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca questioned, clicking on the light on the coffee table. Elsie hadn't noticed her there, she'd thought Rebecca was asleep. Rebecca, in felt pajamas, was reclined in an armchair, holding a thick novel.

"Oh, Becky! I didn't see you there, I, uh, well, I, uh—"

Rebecca stood up, facing Elise, arms crossed. "You're going to go see _him_ again, aren't you?"

"What?" Elise laughed, like she had never heard a thing. "Yeah…" she confessed, although it was a lie, looking away from Rebecca's judging eyes. "Yeah, I am." She looked back up, stubbornly. Rebecca was younger than her. "It's strictly business," she assured her.

"Oh sure it is. That's why you just spent the last hour putting on your nice make-up, flossing your teeth," Rebecca shrugged, going down the list, taking off her reading glasses, to look at Elise. "Using mouthwash—tell me, Elise, how close do you plan on your mouths getting that you need _mouthwash_?"

"Rebecca!" Elise yelled. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. "I do _not_ like Smith! That's ridiculous! Have you met him? You said yourself, he's like Scrooge."

"You said that, and yes, Elise, that's obvious," Rebecca added, smiling, and sitting back down. "Don't bother adding 'don't wait up for me', because I wasn't planning on staying awake until tomorrow."

"Rebecca!" Elise yelled again. Rebecca relaxed back into the white armchair, biting the earpiece of her glasses, smiling at Elise. With some effort, Elise forced herself to stop yelling, or she'd wake up Tina and Jessica, and there would be no way she was going to meet Morpheus before midnight. "I'm not even going to meet Smith. Mr. Dutton called me on some business."

"Uh huh, _sure_," Rebecca laughed. Elise glared, and Rebecca shrugged, still smiling, but her eyes flickered back to the book. "Okay, you do that."

"I will!" Elise stated, turning to go out the door, when she stopped, looking back at Rebecca. "I really am going off on business, okay? It has nothing to do with liking Smith."

"So you admit you like him?" Rebecca pointed out.

"Goodnight, Becky." She smiled, annoyed, as she opened and closed the apartment door behind her.

……………………………………………………………………

_Midnight, 80__th__ Plaza and Olson Avenue_

……………………………………………………………

Elise glanced over her shoulder again, for the fiftieth time. _Should have brought mace._ She mentally kicked herself. Not that there _was_ anyone out tonight. The only life she'd seen had been a stray cat, but since that incident a month or so ago…when she'd first met Smith…

_I thought we agreed we weren't going to think about him anymore?_ Elise hissed at herself.

She shook her head, in an attempt to clear it. The point was, since then she'd felt less at ease in the city, and much more…paranoid.

The quiet hum of a car made her head whip around to the source of the noise. A black car pulled up next to her, and a man with a goatee and an untrusting look opened the door for her.

"You Host?" he asked in a kind of lower town accent.

"Yes."

"Get in," he ordered. She obeyed, sliding in next to him. "Drive," he ordered the man with long hair sitting in the driver's seat.

With a side-glance at the man next to her, she recognized him as one of the people who'd been following her. The woman, the only other person in the car, with the pale hair had also been with them. They were definitely Morpheus's people.

She knew she should have felt fear, cold and metallic, in her veins, but if it was there, it was being ignored because of the other feeling inside her. _We agreed not to think about him. Remember, we're in the hands of serial killers now._

After about a ten minute ride, the car stopped at what looked like an old, abandoned office building. The man with the goatee ordered her to get out (since he seemed to be the one ordering everyone around), and she did, not wishing to give them any reason to hurt her.

The man with the goatee led her through the old building, up a flight of stairs, and paused at what looked like the entrance to the lobby. "Morpheus is waiting for you," he told her, with one last skeptical look, before he opened the doors in front of her, leading her in.

The room was fairly large, but dark. Goatee ushered for her to sit in the dirty looking armchair, turning to go through the door marked in dirty letters "Break Room."

Elise adjusted herself uncomfortably in the chair, glancing around the dark room.

"Hello, Host," an ominous voice spoke from somewhere in the dark.

Elise felt the fear now. It was the voice from the elevator and the phone. It was definitely Morpheus now.

The only light in the dirty room came from two standing lamps, but by squinting hard, Elise was able to make out the general outline of the man who was speaking.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked. He stepped forward again, so she could see him entirely, and to her surprise, being able to see him made her fear go away, and she felt like she knew him from somewhere. Seeing his face, although he was wearing dark sunglasses (at night in a dark room), made her instantly feel like she could trust him.

_So we've clarified there is something horribly wrong with you since you fell for Smith and feel comfortable around a serial killer._

"You're the man from the elevator, and the guy who called me earlier today," Elise answered coolly.

Morpheus cracked a smile. "I am Morpheus, and yes, that was me. Do you know why you're here?"

Elise shook her head after a moment of hesitation.

"You're here because all of your life you've known there is something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there. It's been nagging at you all your life, picking at your brain, slowly making you go crazy." Morpheus took the seat in the armchair across from her. "You came here because you know the question, but not the answer." Morpheus paused, clearly wanting her to speak.

"What is the Matrix," she answered without thinking.

Morpheus smiled. "The Matrix is all around us. It is the air we breath, the warmth we feel. It is everywhere, it is everything…and nothing."

_Because that makes sense._ Elise found herself biting back her comment.

"Are you familiar with Alice in Wonderland?" Morpheus asked.

Elise nodded, ignoring the randomness of his question. "One of my favorites."

"Do you know why?"

"Because I liked the movie."

"Why?"

"I liked the idea of a world where anything was possible, and you weren't bound by the natural laws of physics." _A serial killer who likes children stories…what's next?_

Morpheus's smile stretched across his face. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Can you tell me what the Matrix is?" Elise asked, more impatient now.

Morpheus leaned back against his chair and pulled out a small, thin metal box. "No. But I can show you." He opened the box, dropping two small pills into his hands. He put the box back in his pocket, and showed her his palms. "Take the blue pill, and you'll wake up in your bed, remembering nothing of this meeting, believing whatever you wish. Take the red pill, and I'll show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes."

_Now the serial killer's offering me drugs. Wonderful—wait…_

Red or blue…hadn't the old lady in the park said…? It couldn't just be coincidence…

Getting that bold, reckless feeling again, Elise grabbed the red pill, swallowed it, and gave Morpheus an expectant look. "So show me."

……………………………………………………………………………………

_On board the Nebuchadnezzar, three weeks later_

………………………………………………………………………………

Elise's eyelids felt heavier than they ever had in her entire life. What a weird dream that had been.

She'd dreamt people in Morpheus's gang had strapped her to some chair, and something happened…she'd woken up in some orange goo, in a sack. It'd been like something in some Sci-Fi blockbuster…it was terrifyingly realistic though. There were sacks all around her, with people in them.

A machine had grabbed her throat. Her limbs had been totally useless…it was like she had no muscle at all. She was like that in dreams sometimes. The machine had yanked something out of her head, and tubes had popped off of her, giving her searing pain.

Then she fell through a tube into some kind of liquid. She couldn't tread it, and she could hardly breathe. She felt herself begin to drown, and sink into the murky water, when something had grabbed her, pulling her up into light.

It had been a very long dream.

Most of it was black, but occasionally, she'd find herself looking up into light, and the faces of Morpheus's gang, and they always looked happy to see her.

Slowly, she began to dream she woke up for longer and longer periods, until she found herself lying in some stiff bed.

Blinking her eyes, she pulled herself up. There was a musty sent in the air, and her head felt cold. Furrowing her brow, her hand flew up to touch her head, finding her hair gone, replaced with peach fuzz.

Her first reaction was shock, and she felt her breath speed up as she realized she had no idea where she was.

It took her fifteen minutes to remember what Smith had told her, but only three to remember Smith. She was going to help them take down Morpheus, that's why she'd come. She rolled out of the bed and touched the cold metal floor with bare feet.

That was another thing, she was wearing dull gray clothes, torn and stained, and for a moment she was sickened at the thought of being undressed while she was unconscious, but forced it out of her head.

The door to her cell, or whatever it was, was heavier than she expected, but she finally got it open.

There were no windows, and no clocks, so Elise had no idea if it were day or night. Not that it really mattered.

"Hey, what are you doing out of—" someone began. Elise whipped her head around, surprised that the slight movement nearly made her fall over.

Arms she didn't recognize caught her, making sure she was stable before they let go.

"Cypher! Call Morpheus! Host is up!" the voice called. It was male, deep and strong. "What are you doing up?" The arms, satisfied she wasn't going to fall, let her go, and she found herself looking into the face of a man she didn't know.

"I—I—er—um…who are you?" she asked. "Where am I?"

The man who had identified himself as Morpheus appeared in the hall, though Elise's vision was becoming blurred. Morpheus and a small collection of other blurs thronged about her, all with what looked like concern on their faces, but she pushed their hands away.

"Where am I?" She rubbed her eyes, leaning against the cold metal wall.

"The real world," Morpheus replied.

…………………………

_Two weeks later_

………………………………

To put it simply: Trinity was a prodigy, Host was not. Morpheus knew this. Trinity was the fastest learner he'd ever had, and Host was the slowest. Where Trinity had responded to the news of the real world as everyone unplugged after the age of eighteen did, Host had acted like she expected it, because she was expecting to wake up.

Trinity had spent hours having everything she could loaded into her brain, and Host had been more timid than a mouse. Trinity had gotten the jump on the second try, Host still hadn't gotten it. Trinity had beaten him at sparring after an hour, but Host couldn't beat a blind senior citizen.

But the most interesting part of training either of them had had (Trinity joined only a day before Host, but was more than five years ahead), was the woman in the red dress program.

Trinity had glanced at her, but had been focused on Morpheus. Trinity had taken the "course" (if you could call it that), about a week and a half before Host. During that time, though most of the crew didn't pay much attention to it, Host was becoming more and more uneasy, and progressively fidgety.

Most of the time Host was with either Dozer or Browser, and sometimes Trinity, but was the definition of lonely and depressed. It was like she was having an internal battle with herself all the time, and it wore her out.

She'd gone to talk to Dozer (the ship's doctor), about a feeling of hollowness inside her, and the horrible dreams she was having (she thought it had to be a medical condition that she was feeling so distraught), but he assured her she was just homesick and it would wear off in time.

But when the time finally came for Host to go through the woman in the red dress program, something strange happened.

"The Matrix is a system," Morpheus told her, walking in the way he did when they had these hallucinations they called "programs." Elise had to run to keep up with him, trying to ignore the fact that her hair was longer and the horrifying metal holes were gone. "That system is our enemy."

Elise glanced at the figures passing them, all in black and white. It was too real. She'd been trying to repress the thoughts she'd been having, trying to remember it was all a scam, but deep down she knew it had to be true. Which would mean that everything Smith had told her was a lie. Why would he have lied about that? And why couldn't she stop thinking about him? She hadn't told Dozer that she knew what the problem with herself was. Of course she missed the girls and home and eating good food, but more than that, she missed him, and it had been driving her crazy. Just as crazy as trying to figure out what all of this was—

Some woman all dressed in red glanced at her, pulling her scarlet lips up into a grimace, so Elise sneered back.

"Were you listening to me Host? Or were you looking at the woman in the red dress?" Morpheus asked with amusement written all over his face. (His patience with her slow brain was amazing.)

Elise stopped, "I…I…" she stuttered.

"Look again." He nodded.

Elise furrowed her brow, turning slowly, instead seeing the barrel of a gun half an inch from her face. She stumbled backwards in shock, covering her face with her hands, as if that would stop a bullet.

"Freeze it," Morpheus ordered, and everything stopped. Even the birds were suspended in flight and the water from a fountain had paused, but she could still move.

Elise felt a sigh of relief pass her lips, but as it did, she saw something else wrong with the picture, and every emotion except happiness began attacking her. She was somewhat aware that Morpheus was still talking, but she wasn't listening to him. Her eyes were frozen on the face of the man with the gun.

She couldn't move, she couldn't speak, all she could do was stare. Or at least until Morpheus noticed. "Host?"

"It's…not…true…" She shook her head, turning to the bird, the water, the people, cars, and back to him.

As if to make up for the past month of sloth speed, her brain was running a million miles an hour, processing everything, understanding everything.

"What is this?" She had never heard a voice so full of poison as hers was now when she pointed to the man with the gun.

"An Agent. A sentient program. They're gatekeepers, they're—" Morpheus didn't seem to see the hatred in her face.

"What do they do?"

"Usually, they hunt and kill people like us."

Elise expected to feel tears coming down her face, but her hatred kept the burning tears in her eyes for which she was thankful.

It all made sense now. He used her to get to Morpheus. Everything Morpheus had said was true. Everything _he_ had said was a lie. He was a lie.

"One of them killed my husband, didn't they?" If any one of her friends could see her face then, they wouldn't have recognized it. Back home her face had never been so contorted with total and absolute loathing.

"Yes…but I feel part of his death is on my hands…I was so—" Morpheus try to console her, seeming to become more aware of what was wrong, when in reality, he could have no idea what was wrong. If he knew everything she knew in that moment, he'd probably order her death on the spot, and more than half of her wished he would.

Elise turned on her head, her heart racing with the sweet thought of revenge. "Take me to the Matrix."

"What?" Morpheus pulled back. It had become more than obvious that Elise was not ready for fighting a normal police officer, let alone going into the Matrix.

"I'm going to find Smith, and I'm going to kill him." Her words were harsh, stubborn, and convinced she could do it. More than that, they told Morpheus she didn't care about anything else. She would have her revenge. She didn't care if she died. She wanted to kill them, even though they couldn't die. And there was nothing Morpheus could say to change her mind.

"You can't kill a program, Host."

"Just watch me."

* * *

"_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."_

Okay, this wasn't so funny, but it had to happen sooner or later. It was hard for me to write this chapter just because I didn't want it to be too terribly close to what happened with Neo in the first movie, but yeah.

Tell me if you liked it! Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long…

REVIEW

* * *


	9. It's like a Road Trip from Hell

I ran into a small problem. Thinking ahead, for what I want in the story, I had to change the names of some of Morpheus's crew. So Mouse, Switch, and Apoc have all been changed, because this is before them, too… Cypher, Tank and Dozer are the same, though.

Okay, just wanted to let you know that.

This chapter is rated T for mild language. Just to let you know.

And I don't own Matrix.

* * *

"This is Host?" Cypher stared blankly at the screen.

Tank chuckled. "Bit different from what she was a week ago, right?" Cypher, Tank, and Flash's eyes were fixed on the Matrix feed on the screen, like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Host had gone from the weakest, most useless bag of organs any hovercraft had ever seen, to at least the fourth best on Morpheus's team. She was still miles behind Trinity, and the way Trinity progressed, it seemed impossible for anyone to catch up with her, but Host was at least Cypher's equal, if not his superior.

Though her sudden eagerness gained Host respect from the others, it only made Cypher loathe her more.

Flash, Tank and Cypher had been watching a three-way fight in the sparring program among Morpheus, Trinity and Host. Morpheus had laughed when Host suggested it, and easily blocked all their attacks.

Morpheus always won.

Then Trinity and Host had gotten sick of it, and had teamed up to easily overwhelm him.

Trinity and Host now trusted each other almost as Tank and Dozer trusted Morpheus.

Flash and Tank gave a smug chuckle as Morpheus was thrown down again, tagged-teamed by Host and Trinity. Cypher rolled his eyes, annoyed. Morpheus nodded, stood, and told them he had enough. Tank smirked and ended the program.

The threesome's eyes fluttered open, as the rest of the crew helped them out of their chairs. Cypher gave them a short look of scorn before turning. _Morpheus's two new favorites,_ he thought bitterly.

……………………………

_The next day_

…………………

Elise wanted to scream. She did scream actually, a few times.

Morpheus wasn't so wonderful. He was a tyrant. An evil tyrant. A miser. Yeah, that was it. Morpheus was a miser!

She paced the floor of her sleeping quarters, pounding on the floor so everyone would remember she was furious. Not that Dozer or Tank had paid much attention to her temper tantrum.

"Why can't _I_ go?!" she yelled again, this time to Tank, who was trying to focus on the code.

"Morpheus's orders. I don't make 'em, I just follow 'em," he reminded her again in a monotone, typing at his keyboard.

"Host, please." Dozer lifted his head, his expression annoyed.

Elise didn't respond, turning on her heel sharply, to glare at the other crew members…all plugged into the Matrix. Morpheus was taking his Golden Girl to see some Oracle, with everyone else in the crew, but Host had to stay behind because she wasn't "quite ready". Stupid Morpheus.

As if her being prepared had anything to do with it.

Okay, so maybe she had been a little too curious about the Agents, and how to destroy them. Maybe she had made it a little too clear she didn't intend to _run_ from the Agents, as they were ordered directly to.

But making her stay in the ship was just too much.

Elise came around the controls, to watch the code, since there was nothing else to do. "Where are they now?" she asked with bored misery.

"Alley," Tank answered absent-mindedly, more focused on the code than answering her.

Elise's eyes followed the green shapes as they fell. _So the squiggle with the line means human…_ she assumed. It was mind boggling trying to read all of the code, but she was beginning to pick out what certain shapes meant. It was slow, but if she was ever going to get into the Matrix, it looked like she was going to have to figure out how to plug herself in without Morpheus knowing. Maybe while they were sleeping…

"Host!" Dozer called from the main deck, where he'd headed back to.

"Yeah?" she answered over her shoulder, studying the green code.

"Can you help me with this valve? I think it's coming loose."

_Wonderful. So instead of being able to fight Agents, I get to help Dozer grease the engine. Awesome,_ she thought with bitter sarcasm.

……………………………

_One week later_

……………………

_This is the ugliest hack ever. Of all time._ Elise reread the code she'd just programmed. It'd take her to the loading dock for twenty minutes, enough time to get enough weapons, then redirect her to the Matrix.

She cast another anxious look over her shoulder, and her stomach churned. If Morpheus found out…

_Morpheus isn't going to find out, _she reminded herself.

In all honesty, she knew it was stupid. She knew she was probably not coming back. How could she? She'd been willing to give them all up to the Agents, without a second thought. Sure, she'd told herself that was before she knew the truth, and that she would never do that anymore…but wouldn't she? She missed home, she hated the real world. She had never been meant to fight this war. After a year or so, she'd crack. She'd sell them out to the Agents. She knew she would. She hated herself for it, but she knew she would. She wasn't as strong as the rest of them.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed "begin", and settled herself into the chair, plugging herself in, causing her a good amount of pain, before the real world disappeared and she was in the plain whiteness of the loading dock.

All around her were aisles of guns. Knowing she didn't have much time, she grabbed as many as she could, as fast as she could. It was impossible to kill an Agent, but she could at least give those bastards something to remember her by.

……………………………………

_Inside the Matrix_

……………………………

What time was it? Midnight?

Elise glanced around, underneath the brown sunglasses she wore. No, it was almost sunrise.

To attract the attention of the Agents, she'd have to do something big. Rob a bank? That sounded good enough.

She looked around at her surroundings. She was on top of a small skyscraper. The pale gray city she'd called home once upon a time had never looked so beautiful. Enjoying the moment while she could, she filled her lungs with air, just to remember the scent of fresh air…

Jones and Brown didn't matter. She wouldn't waste her life trying to kill them. She'd go after Smith. They could dodge bullets, or at least that's what everyone had told her…what was faster than a bullet?

_When they start to follow, we don't turn and attack, first we run. When they catch us, then we open fire. Not before._

_We need a car._ Elise peered over the building. Stealing a car would be easy.

_Wait! Why rush into your death? Why not have a little fun first?_

The later the Agents found her, the longer she'd get to spend in the Matrix, doing all the things she'd watched Morpheus and the others do.

Elise's eyes found the closest building, that was still a good two hundred yards away. "Free your mind…free your mind," she reminded herself, mentally preparing herself. "It's not real. It's not real."

And then she jumped, eyes shut tight, fists clenched, she leapt off the building, leaving reality behind her, entering some other kind of world. The wind was with her, her head was light, her legs turned to jelly, and her stomach was miles behind her.

She had entirely forgotten her fear, and was almost shocked when she landed on the roof of the other building, like she'd meant to keep flying. She glanced behind her, back at the other building, that didn't seem so far away anymore. "Nah, the Agents can wait."

…………………………………

_Half an hour later_

…………………………

Elise was getting ready to scale the building, convinced she could pull a Spiderman, when a man in a business suit appeared on the opposite side of the roof from her.

In an instant, all of her blood seemed to turn to ice water, as she stared at the Agent, and her whole body was begging her to run, but something about the Agent's posture, something about his expression told her not to.

"Miss Roberts?" Smith asked, arching an eyebrow.

Oh right. He didn't know she wanted to kill him now. He was still under the delusion she was working for them.

"The arrangement was for you to give us Morpheus," Smith reminded her, like she was stupid.

"That was the agreement, yes," Elise agreed with him, keeping her feet firm in where she stood. She wasn't running.

"And yet you are here, and he is not," Smith turned his head slightly from side to side.

"Your powers of stating the obvious are shocking."

Smith's head rose to study her face, silently. "I see you survived Morpheus's methods."

"I may be gullible, but I'm not stupid."

"I never brought your intellect into consideration. I was merely commenting on the fact you are still alive."

"I know about the Matrix, Smith. I know what it is, and I know what you are. You killed my husband, didn't you?"

Smith didn't answer. "If that was true, then why would you stay here? Why wouldn't you run? Do you have a death wish, Miss Roberts?"

"Only for you," Elise spat. She placed a hand on the two hand guns at her sides, but Smith only let out a dry chuckle.

"How did you like reality, Elise?"

Elise paused, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing she hated it.

"I doubt you had time to see Zion, but it is really the same prison the pirate hover crafts are, only larger. Tell me, what did it feel like, knowing all life, other than humans, is entirely gone in the real world? What did it feel like to know you can never go home?" He began to come closer to her, but she didn't run. He was trying to scare her. It wasn't going to work this time.

"I'm not going back into the real world."

Smith paused, furrowing his brow again. "How do you intend to accomplish this, Miss Roberts?"

"I can't really live in either world now, so there's no point in pretending."

"So the answer is yes, you _do_ have a death wish," Smith was only a few feet from her now.

"I hate the real world, yes, you can gloat over that. Fact is, though, whether it's out there or in here I'm a prisoner."

"_But_," Smith finished her thought. "The Matrix is a much more comfortable prison, isn't it?"

_Yes that's it, come closer._ Smith was almost next to Elise.

"You killed my husband," Elise repeated.

Smith kept coming closer…

"You killed James…" Elise tried to find her rage again. She tried to remember he was just a mess of code. He wasn't real.

Smith was only half a foot away from her now.

"The real world is cold…" she said, though she didn't know why. "This place is warm…"

"We can plug you back in," Smith told her, his tone so steady, so unchanging, so reassuring it was almost maddening.

"I would like to forget," she let him know. "I would like to live here like there was nothing wrong…to stay with you…"

Smith lifted his hand to touch her face…

"…but you killed James, and I could never live with myself." There was the rage again.

She punched his face, catching him off guard. He stumble back, shocked only for 2.04 seconds, before fixing his suit, and blocking a kick to the head, a punch to the gut, another punch to the head, and easily kicked her off her feet.

Elise fell on the concrete roof hard, furious at herself for not stopping it. Smith stood over her in an instant, offering her a hand to help her up, which only made her more furious. She sprang up, barely missing his shin, almost punching his chin, and blocking a punch to her stomach.

Smith smirked. "Very good. A few weeks training and you might be able to beat off a teenage girl."

Elise gnashed her teeth, punching as rapidly as she could to his head and chest, having all but one blocked. He caught one of her fists, however, and turned her around, pushing her off the other way, making her stumble to the ground again.

"Try again," he ordered.

Elise kicked at his head, spun, and kicked at his thigh, both attempts which were easily blocked. Elise tried to punch his face, and he moved out of the way.

"Saw that coming," he let her know in his preachy voice.

This time Elise made contact with his chest when she punched him, but he looked as if she hadn't touched him at all. "Good girl, now actually attack me."

Elise tried to kick him in the crotch, but he grabbed her leg. She came around with her fist, over her head, which he also caught, tossing her to the ground a few feet away.

"Don't be so obvious, Elise." Smith offered her his hand again.

"Don't patronize me, _virus._" She staggered upright.

"Virus?" He smirked, amused. "Really, I expected something better than that."

Elise limped towards the door Smith had come through to get to the roof, nearly toppling over. Smith caught her elbow, helping her as she guessed he would. Casually, with the arm opposite where Smith stood, she pulled the handgun out, and spun around, the gun pointed to his head.

Smith arched his eyebrow again, but his smirk didn't disappear. "Better. Less obvious, but still—" he swung his arm around, turning her arm up, his hand taking the gun from her easily. "Amateur."

The gun pointed at her head, she tried to get to her other gun, but the gun he'd just taken, and his Desert Eagle on her head told her she'd better not.

"Really, why did you bother coming here, Elise? Did you expect you'd accomplish something by it? You do know when the others hear they'll—"

"Spare me the lecture."

"Typical human behavior. Rash decisions have never done any of your species any good, Elise. I thought you knew better."

"Guess not."

"None of the others know you're here, do they?"

Elise didn't answer.

"You do know what happens now, don't you?"

"You take me back to headquarters and torture me."

"…Usually."

"What do you mean, _usually_?"

"I mean normally yes, that would be the case."

"So what happens in this case?"

Smith paused before answering. "You will be the death of me, Elise."

"Excellent."

"There is only one way out of the—" He was interrupted by the sound of the door they were facing opening, out of which Brown and Jones appeared, their faces stiff and expressionless.

Jones seemed to be looking at her from under his dark shades, and touched his earpiece. The others copied the gesture.

"Why is she still alive?" Brown asked, but questions with Agents were more like statements than actual questions. Nothing sounded like a question from an Agent.

"Bait for Morpheus," Jones stated.

"Do you think Morpheus will come for her?" Smith asked, his tone as dull as anything.

"It is unlikely." Brown lifted his gun, pointing it right at Elise's head.

_It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not like this. Not helpless like this._ Elise felt her courage leave her. Three Agents. What had she been thinking? Sacrificing herself like this! She was pathetic. She was going to die, and no one knew.

Her eyes were closed tight, and she was sure her heart stopped when she hear the gun go off. _I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm—_another gun went off, and she was being pushed backwards. _Why am I not dead?_ She forced her eyes to open, in time to see some man she didn't know lying dead, a bullet in his head, right where Brown had been. Smith was firing at Jones, pushing Elise behind him. Jones was moving faster than anything, dodging the bullets, but somehow, one found its mark, and Jones fell backwards, a bullet in his heart, but was now some elderly looking woman.

Smith turned, eyes sweeping over her, searching for wounds. "You really will be the death of me," he hissed.

His head turned sharply, as the door to the roof began to open. Smith grabbed Elise's hand tugging her with him. "Jump!" he ordered, pointing to the other building.

"But I—" The bullet that zipped by her ear was enough to make her change plans, and run, leaping where Smith had ordered, to the much lower building, trying to get away from the Agent's fire. She'd never been shot at before.

Her legs had decided to actually obey her today, and the fear of a bullet in her brain was enough to make her run faster than she'd ever run before.

Jones and Brown had been shooting at her, but when she turned to look up, she saw them shoot Smith, and he fell from the building. What was happening? Smith had saved her?

Elise had no idea what had happened back there, but the bullets Jones and Brown were firing told her not to stop and ask.

The phone, which had seemed to appear in her pocket was ringing most annoyingly. She had purposely not brought a phone, how had it appeared like that? She realized with dread that Morpheus must have woken up. Death by Agents almost looked better than having to explain herself to Morpheus.

She leapt from the building to the ground, ignoring the tingling in her head, and the ringing in her pocket. She hadn't even realized until then how much she'd missed Smith…why had he saved her? Wasn't that against his programming? Why had she come her in the first place? The streets were still mostly deserted, and the city hadn't yet woken up, but as she rounded a corner, into an alley, an Agent grabbed her, pulling her with him into a red Mustang, and driving off.

"Smith?" she gasped for breath.

"Answer the damn phone!" he snapped.

She obeyed, flipping the device open. "Yes?"

"…You do know you're dead, right?" Tank's voice was strained.

"I—" How was she supposed to explain? How could she?

"I can give you an exit. Top of the Mulpha building. There's an electrician's booth. Better hurry."

"Tank, I—"

"What…who's driving the car?" Tank asked like he genuinely didn't know.

"Uh…you mean...?" She glanced at Smith, his face more determined than she'd ever seen it. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you with an exile?" Tank asked. "Never mind, just hurry. You've got two Agents on your tail, I don't know where the third one is. Morpheus is going to slaughter you for going in to the Matrix for no reason."

"I—"

"Top of the Mulpha building. Just get there, before the Agents cut the hardline," Tank reminded.

"Thanks Tank." Elise sighed with relief, hanging up. "Top of the Mulpha building."

Smith nodded silently.

"He didn't read your code as an Agent—" Elise began.

"I know." The sirens of at least four police cars were after them now. "I told you you'd be the death of me. I meant it literally." Smith stamped on the acceleration, going so fast Elise's fear was renewed.

A police car ahead of them, with Jones now at the wheel tried to cut them off, but Smith turned off, into a parking garage, driving at least 70 miles per hour up the ramps.

Elise's heart was beating so hard, it threatened to leap out of her chest, when they reached the roof, on the twentieth floor. Smith turned the car 90 degrees, blocking the tiny space on the ramp. He jumped out of the car, running around to help Elise out, leading her to the edge.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Y-yes." She was almost shocked at how true her answer was.

"Count to ten, and jump," he leapt off the building, which was higher up than anyone but maybe Morpheus could survive to jump off of, and further away from any other roofs for Elise to reach.

"One, two, three," she heard the sirens coming, closer and closer and closer, "four, five, six, seven," the sound of firing was so close her stomach churned, "eight, nine," Jones had made it over the car, and began running towards her, "ten." She jumped over the small fence, feeling herself fall, down, down, down.

Her life flashed before her eyes, and the pavement began to rise to meet her, when something impossible happened…arms caught her, sending ripples into the pavement, but arms did catch her. "Hurry!" Smith's voice ordered as he grabbed her hand, pulling her.

Smith changed into a little boy, and a car swerved onto the sidewalk, almost hitting Elise. The driver, who was Smith now, yelled at her, opening the door.

She climbed into the trashy car, and he sped off again.

"Top of the Mulpha building," he repeated.

Elise felt something in her throat, a hard lump. She couldn't look at Smith, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. He was going to be deleted for this, she was sure of it. He was going to be deleted because he saved her.

It was in that moment, with the world rushing by the windows, both of them knowing the sirens were beginning to play in the background again, Elise realized she was even deeper in than she thought. She was human…he was machine…which meant it was wrong, impossible.

Everyone had told her programs couldn't feel, but when he noticed her looking, and looked back, no one could have said that. No one could accuse him of being like them. He wasn't evil. He did what he had been made to do…until now. He was breaking every rule to save her, a simple human who meant nothing. He was throwing away everything for her.

The Mulpha building was right in front of them now, and Smith screeched to a stop. A man in a business suit, who was walking to front entrance turned around, his form beginning to change into Brown, but somehow Brown was overpowered by Smith, and the man next to Elise turned back into himself. Smith pulled Elise out of the car, breaking through the glass doors of the building, running with her to the elevator, and breaking the doors open when it didn't go fast enough.

Smith glared at the elevator, as it began to roll up to the top of the building.

"This is it, isn't it?" Elise asked, her eyes focused on him.

"Yes. I believe so."

"Take off your glasses."

"What?"

"If it's the end, at least let me see your eyes."

Smith turned to face her, removing his shades slowly.

"If it hadn't been for the war…" Elise started.

"Yes…perhaps." Smith read her mind. "I've grown tired of this war. This never-ending cycle. I've grown tired of the same routine. Nothing ever changes."

"Some day the war will be over."

"No. The war never ends."

"What will they do to you?"

"Deletion, most likely."

"If it means anything, I'm sorry." Elise cursed her human emotions. "I'm so sorry." Elise hung her head.

Smith's arms embraced her. They were half way to the top of the building. If they were very, very, very lucky, only Brown and Jones would be there. "Emotions never helped anyone, Elise. It's not your fault, Elise. I knew it was coming, I should have stopped myself."

"Why'd you save me?" she pulled away.

"After all these years, all humanity has done was fill me with anger, fueling my prejudice. Until now."

They were almost there now, five more floors to go.

"So this is goodbye," Elise filled her lungs with air.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"Goodbye, Smith."

"Goodbye, Elise."

Three more floors.

Smith lifted Elise's head to look into her eyes.

Two more floors.

He lowered his head, and kissed her gently.

One more floor.

"Stay close to me," Smith pulled her behind him again as the doors opened.

Jones and Brown jumped from a police helicopter, fists clenched, guns ready. Smith shot, forcing them to stop to dodge the bullets, while Smith turned Elise into the booth, where the phone was ringing.

Brown's head turned towards Elise, and lifted his gun to shoot at her, but Smith's gun was faster, and Elise reached the phone on the old table first.

The last thing she saw was Smith's incredibly blue eyes, just before a bullet from Jones found him.

* * *

This was posted really soon, but the next one might take longer. (Yes the _next_ one, I'm not going to end it like this. That would suck.)

Tell me if this was too sappy, or if Smith was too quick to go teddy bear.

_Review!_

Oh, P.S. Don't read on, unless you are desperate for a happy ending. You don't need one, end here. We all understand. Not that I'd be _bitter_ or anything.

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	10. When Life Gives You Lemons, Demand Pears

Matrix isn't mine, but the characters Elise Roberts, Tina, Jessica, et cetera, are.

I hope this chapter lives up to any expectations you might have had.

I'm posting this at the same time as the last chapter, because I was way too impatient to wait.

Here's the chapter: enjoy!

* * *

The room's walls were hidden behind countless monitors, monitors with his face on them. He couldn't see any camera, but he didn't care to look.

The Architect was eyeing Smith with his "all-knowing" look.

The Architect's eyes were focused on him, but Smith didn't make eye contact for five minutes. "You know, of course, why you are here," the Architect finally said.

"Of course."

The Architect waited.

"To be deleted," Smith finished, slightly annoyed.

"Incorrect," the Architect snapped. "It's not surprising to me that you acquired the virus; there are records Sully made close contact with you after he'd been infected."

"Infected?" Smith raised an eyebrow. Did the Architect really believe that? More importantly, had Smith ever _followed_ what he believed?

"It is an error like any other error. Sully's entire system had been corrupted, but he was weak. He had been the first Agent Program to be created with so many similarities to humans, and therefore, he was, inevitably prone to failure. With such a disgusting error added on top of that, he was entirely worthless. When we came to delete him—"

Smith nearly found himself laughing when the Architect said "we", as if he ever really went out into the world he'd created and _did_ anything.

"—he didn't even put up a fight. He would have been deleted anyway, if not for that incident, than for another. But you, you I can't imagine being affected by this kind of bug. You've lasted through six versions of the Matrix without a flaw. Since you've spoken to both Brown and Jones, I would not be surprised if they too fell victim to this error, therefore, it would be incredibly inefficient and foolish to simply delete all who acquire this error, instead of simply removing the error."

_Listen to him drone on and on, just to hear the sound of his own voice._ Smith felt an unrestainable urge to roll his eyes at the Architect.

"Do you follow my logic or is your progressively softening brain finding my words too high above human intellect?" The Architect seemed to guess Smith couldn't care less about what he had to say.

"Like father, like son," Smith replied coolly, raising his head to look at the "father" of the Matrix.

The Architect gave a condescending look before smirking. "Indeed. So you see, this could actually be beneficial for us. Although I was surprised to hear of how far you made it before you finally gave up."

Smith found it painful to resist laughing. He hadn't "given up." Elise had made it out of the Matrix, so there was no point in running. Jones had shot him, and after Smith changed into the body of one of the police officers they'd brought with them (all of whom had woken up shortly afterwards, thinking it was a dream), he had let his former partners take him to the Architect.

"And since you seem so fond of the humans now, here's another saying, 'that which does not kill me, makes me stronger.' Even our best programs have encountered problems, but I would have to be _human_ to make such a foolish decision as to delete you. If you were faced with deletion now, you'd inevitably choose exile, probably with some crazed hope to see the human who infected you. It is a minor setback, but rest assured it will be fixed, and your program reloaded. You won't even remember who she was."

……………………………

_Six days later_

………………………

"Back to normal." Jones repeated the Architect's words.

"Yes. He might be slightly unstable and prone to violent outbursts at first, but there shouldn't be any further problems with Smith." The Architect dropped a thick file on the white table in front of him, the file that was full of every detail to everything he'd changed within Smith's code, to be recalled when needed.

"If we should see the human female again?" Brown asked, his eyes inching towards the door behind which Smith was waiting patiently, finally cleared for the field again after almost a week of heavy remodeling.

The Architect's eyes squinted slightly, almost unnoticeably. It was the only sign the Architect ever gave to indicate he was undecided, and had to ponder it a moment. "Bring her here, but do not, under any circumstances, leave her alone with Smith or let her speak to him. All of his memory units in which the woman was at all involved have been erased, but with impossible errors such as the one the human posed, one can never be too careful. I wish to interrogate her. If at all possible bring her here, unharmed. She could prove useful in avoiding these things in future."

"Every time a rebel is captured they're unplugged from the ship," Brown began.

"They don't wish any member of their crew to go through torture," Jones added.

"They call it mercy killing," Brown finished.

"Quite right." The Architect's face hinted at a grin, like he wanted to smile. "Which is why we need to get the human away from a rebel ship, and back into the Matrix."

"How would we accomplish this?" Jones asked, finding the Architect's eternal hunger for tiny bits of knowledge incredibly annoying. The Architect was always "shooting for the stars," as a human would say, when it came to trying to understand why and how any error occurred. He would sacrifice more than ten thousand Sentinels to learn the cause for a seemingly insignificant error.

The Architect was like that. Always trying to find the missing factor in an unfinished equation. His need to understand how Smith's error had occurred would justify any means, in his mind, to get to the answer to the unsolved equation. It was what he did.

The Architect smirked, the corners of his mouth just barely turning up, and his eyes gleaming, as he answered his children--the sons of the Matrix.

………………………………………………

_The ship, the next day_

………………………………

What was this slop called? Mush? Garbage? Whatever-the-pig-wouldn't-eat? Dirt? Moldy oil?

For a moment, Elise found herself distracted, wondering if oil _could_ grow mold, but her thoughts were diverted from the foul taste of the meal for only a moment. Meals were the worst part of the day for the rest of the crew, and the best for her. When she was busy concentrating on _not_ throwing up, she could stop thinking about…other things.

She wasn't weak, not really, but she hadn't had a peaceful night since the last time she'd been in the Matrix. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing him, without seeing his bright blue eyes. She couldn't see anything past the image permanently burned inside her eyelids.

She knew she was going to crack soon, she could feel it, like a weatherman predicts the weather. When that happened she could be around anyone else. It had happened with James, it would happen with Smith. To everyone else, Elise was fine, she could hide her internal pain well…when she was awake.

More than once they'd told her she'd thrown violent fits while asleep, waking up Flash, who slept next door, and occasionally screamed, in her sleep. _At least you haven't said anything,_ Elise reminded herself.

While she was conscious, she could playact the part of Host, and no one would notice anything wrong with her, but inside, Elise was anything but okay.

She was going to crack soon, and she'd burst like a dam. She was going to fall, and she was going to fall hard. She had to get away from them, she had to get away from the crew.

What Smith had said had stuck in her brain just as much as the image of him just before she got out. She did hate reality, and she wanted to go home. She wanted to leave the real world. She didn't care anymore.

As if there was anywhere to run. As if there was anyway to get back home. As if.

Over the passed weeks, since she found out what Smith really was, when Morpheus was having second thoughts about her stability, she'd been apprenticed to Dozer (not by her choice), helping with the engine and fixing pipes and valves, controls, switches and every other thing that went wrong. For the most part it was boring, simple when you got the hang of it, but boring. She never learned the advanced stuff, and usually was the one handing Dozer his wrench, but she knew her way around the ship now.

It was really the only thing she could do better than Trinity, who had always been right next to Morpheus inside the Matrix, and so, even if she wanted to, didn't really have time to learn all the boring specifics of the floating trashcan.

Even mechcanical work didn't distract her from thoughts of Smith now. It wasn't as bad as when James had died…no…it was much worse. Now whenever she thought of loosing Smith, she thought of loosing James, and her friends, her job, her life, her whole world, her reality. And it was all, much, much worse.

Elise was staring at the bowl of disgusting minerals and vitamins when Tank stuck his head through the door. "We found another ship." Everyone around the table; Host, Flash, Chip and Trinity stood, following Tank out of the small dining cell, to the control deck.

Morpheus, Cypher, Dozer and Browser were gathered around the control panel, peering out through the front window. Surely enough, in the middle of an intersection in the pipes of the sewer, a hover craft laid, dark and motionless.

"That looks like…the Follower…it disappeared two years ago, what's it doing here?" Dozer asked himself out loud.

"Are there any readings of life?" Morpheus asked, his arms crossed, his eyes focused on the ship.

"No sir, place is as dead as a graveyard," Tank answered. "Should we land sir? Try to get it working again?"

Morpheus nodded. "Yes, but have the EMP ready. Sentinels are cunning. Trinity," Trinity raised her head, ready to obey an order. "I want you to stand guard here, if you notice anything out of the ordinary, press the button." Morpheus indicated the glowing EMP switch. Trinity gave a stiff nod, compliant to his every order.

"Sir, are you sure that's wise?" Dozer asked, his face unpleased, almost ill with nervousness.

"The more ships Zion has, the better, Dozer. Every EMP we have is a weapon against the Machines." Dozer eyed Morpheus for a brief moment, before nodding unhappily.

"Yes sir," he muttered.

The ship landed slowly, and Dozer and Tank dragged Elise along with Browser, Flash and Morpheus to help restart the ship.

Flash, Morpheus and Browser went through the ship first, inspecting the place, testing the mineral mush in the storage tanks (stuff that never expired), testing the water, and searching for the remains of the crew…without finding so much as a skeleton.

"It doesn't look that badly beat up," Elise observed quietly, attaching a thick cable to the battery of the Follower.

"It isn't, that's the thing that worries me," Dozer told her in a hushed voice, so Morpheus and the others couldn't hear.

"What do you mean?" Elise glanced at Morpheus, unwinding another cable.

"The Sentinels work is never so clean cut. This ship is dead, but there's nothing wrong with it, except those gashes on the sides." Dozer pointed to the long dents on either side of the ship's body, that looked like giant metallic scars.

"I don't know what finished this thing off, but the crew is all gone. Not dead." Dozer's words were a warning, and he looked up at the Nebechanezzer with fear in his eyes. "This wasn't the work of Sentinels."

"What is it then?" Elise paused, staring at Dozer, starting to feel a panic.

"My opinion? It's bait. Something left this here on purpose." Dozer and Elise finished with the cables, carefully going back over their work, adjusting the last bits.

"Why would the Machines do that?" Elise wiped her hands on her pants, falling in step with Dozer, getting ready with the fans, so the cables didn't overheat when they restarted the ship.

"I don't know. Call it paranoia. All these years in this war does things to your mind. I've been working on this ship," he nodded towards the Nebechanezzer, "for almost seven years now. Been working on ships since I was sixteen."

Elise turned on the fans, and Dozer, on Morpheus's signal, pulled the switch, restarting the Follower. Slowly the hover-pads began to glow again, and the ship groaned back to life.

The whole process took almost an hour.

When the Follower was fully operational, other than her battle scars, Morpheus and the work crew met in front of it. "I don't know how this thing got here, but I don't think it's here for nothing. I know some of you don't agree with me when I talk about fate," Morpheus's eyes quickly scanned their faces, "but the Follower needs a captain, and a crew." Morpheus paused for a moment, considering this in his mind. "Browser, I'm assigning you to the Follower as the ship's captain. Host, I want you to Co-Pilate." He turned to her.

Elise, who hadn't been really listening to Morpheus, her mind more on the Follower, stared at him blankly for a moment, before it registered. "Me?" she laughed slightly, glancing around the group. No one spoke. Her eyes flickered back to Morpheus. "Seriously?"

"I want you to go with Browser, Flash and Chip. Browser?" Morpheus turned to him. "The ship is in your command from now on, or until we get back to Zion," Morpheus ordered.

Chip, Flash and Browser nodded, going back up to the ship, to get all of the belongings they had.

Host didn't follow, walking to Morpheus. "Morpheus, you're sending us away in this—" Elise tried.

"You can do it, Host," he assured her, waving the others away, to give him and Host some privacy. "Just follow Browser's lead and you'll all be perfectly fine."

"Why me? Why not Trinity?" Elise couldn't believe Morpheus would have chosen her above Trinity without a perfectly good reason. Trinity was his most trusted of all the crew. To send her away and not Trinity was understandable in a way, but she had no idea how to Co-Pilate anything! She wouldn't know what to do!

"Trinity is needed inside the Matrix, for…different reasons. Browser needs your help now. Dozer and Tank have taught you well, and Browser will be their to lead you and help."

"Morpheus! I don't know how to fly it! I haven't even been unplugged a whole year yet." Elise tried to make him see reason.

"It's not that, Host." Morpheus turned to board the Nebechanezzer again.

"Than what is it?" She stopped him from returning to his ship.

"The Oracle." Those two words seemed to explain it all, though Host didn't know why.

"…Wait, when did she tell you this?" Elise demanded, still finding all that Oracle stuff to be Morpheus's own little fairy tale.

"It doesn't matter now." Morpheus laid a hand on her shoulder. "We'll have to go back to Zion, both batteries are in desperate need of charging. Don't worry Host, if by the time we get back to Zion you want to give up the position, I'm sure Lieutenant Lock will find someone eager to fill it, and you're always welcomed back on board the Nebechanezzer. But the Oracle knows what she's about. Whatever this thing is doing here, I know you, Browser, Flash and Chip are supposed to be in it."

"The Oracle's never wrong?" Elise raised an eyebrow, not half as confident as Morpheus, but no one ever was.

"Never. You'll be fine. Trust me." Again Morpheus turned to leave, already halfway up the ramp, when he turned to face Elise. "She did mention something about a choice for you to make, but she said you'd know what to do."

_Why does everyone just assume that? I have no idea how to fly a ship! What's wrong with everyone? Am I the only sane person alive?_

Host pursed her lips angrily, only going back on board the Nebechanezzer to grab the other two rags of clothing she had, and to say her goodbye's to the crew.

As she found herself in one of Dozer's bone crushing embraces, there was a moment that she had a sudden, very sharp and very cold feeling inside her, that told her she wasn't going to be seeing many of them again.

* * *

Review. The next chapter, which I already posted, is the last one.

* * *


	11. Ever After

Don't own Matrix.

This is the final chapter of Against Protocol. It's been fun, but it had to end eventually. Review please, since I can always go back and change stuff.

It ends with an idea for a sequel...tell me what you think about that specifically.

Thanks, enjoy.

* * *

"Systems normal," Elise breathed her lungs full of air again, trying to calm her nerves as she watched the Nebechanezzer rise, living them to either certain death if Elise didn't live up to Morpheus's unfairly high expectations.

"All pads are go," Browser, her new captain, flipped a switch above his head, and pulled a lever.

Elise felt the back of her neck go balmy, and butterflies in her stomach rise like a violent storm. Morpheus could have at least left them with Tank or Dozer. Elise found herself praying whatever the Oracle was, that she and Morpheus were right and they'd make it through this.

From the Nebechanezzer, Browser and Elise watched Morpheus and Dozer wave, Dozer mouthing the words "good luck".

"We're on our own now, huh?" Browser asked, as Elise grabbed the controls, bracing herself against her harness.

_You don't have anything to complain about, Morpheus brought the worst job on Browser._ She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the new captain of the follower. Browser's tan face was stern and controlled, ready for this much more than she was.

"Yep." Elise flared her nostrils, her blood pounding in her head.

Browser touched her arm, making her turn, surprised at the touch. "We'll be fine. I promise."

Elise nodded, looking back out the front window. She pushed a button, and the lever on her side, and the Follower began to rise from the ground.

"Here we go." Flash spoke quietly behind them. She and Chip were waiting in silent support, Flash, strapped into the seat behind Browser, and Chip holding onto the handle connected to the ceiling.

As the ship rose, and Elise turned it towards the exit, she laughed with relief near hysteria at how simple it was…like driving a car.

After about twenty minutes, Morpheus called. Chip explained the scenario, and Morpheus told them, since the Nebechanezzer was faster, that they'd go on ahead to Zion since Elise and Browser were fine controlling the Follower. He said it would attract less attention from the Sentinels. "Don't want to blow our EMPs in rage of each other."

"This isn't so bad." Elise smiled, feeling the first sense of power since she'd left the Matrix. "Maybe the Oracle was—"

Then something happened that made Elise stop, and the smile fall from her face. The steering wheel turned, without her touching it, heading the opposite way, away from Zion.

Elise grasped the controls, trying to turn it back around, to no avail. "_Browser_." She struggled against the machine.

Browser's head turned, his face confused. "Why're you turning us a—"

"Help!" Elise pleaded, unsure of what was happening.

Browser's arms grabbed the control handles above where hers clutched it, and tried to tug it towards him.

"Stop the hover craft," Elise ordered, her voice strained, without really caring she was giving an order to her superior.

"What?"

"_Stop the ship_!" she yelled.

Browser let go of the controls, and flicked a switch, pushed the lever, but none of the lights went out, and the ship kept moving right along. "Oh…no…" Browser's eyes fell on the EMP…that had gone black. "Flash! Chip!" He unclasped himself, scrambling out of his seat, running down the hallway to find the others.

Elise closed her eyes, clutching the controls, willing herself to move them. The ship straightened itself out, facing the other way, and nothing she did could change that. Giving up, she unclasped herself, following Browser down the hallway.

"Everything's been overridden!" Elise yelled furiously from the suspended grating hallway. Browser and Flash were trying to get the bottom door open without any success, and Chip was in front of the Matrix feed, typing like a mad man. Every one of the screens had gone black.

Elise jumped down half the stairs, pulling the manual override that was supposed to shut off all power, but though she got the lever down, the lights only flickered for a moment. Someone had broken the wires connecting it, and they'd done it in such a way you couldn't tell it was broken unless you pulled it.

"Dozer was right!" she yelled angrily. "It's a trap." She kicked the wall angrily. The Oracle had been wrong. Morpheus had been wrong. Now all four of them were going to die, they were going to be picked from the metal belly of the Follower by the Sentinels.

"They'll take us to Zero-One," Flash snarled, pulling at her short hair.

"I can't call Morpheus!" Chip called. "The whole Matrix signal, _and_ the phones are dead."

"Chip! The radio!" Host called.

Chip nodded, scrambling up to the cockpit, with Browser and Host two steps behind him. Chip pressed the button, his face close to the microphone, "Hello? Hello? Come in, Nebechanezzer! The ship's malfunctioning!"

"Wait." Browser's big hands stopped Chip, listening to the feed from the radio. Browser's mouth, closed to a tight line, twitched with fury. "It's the engine room." Browser was gone again, jogging down to the engine room, where Host stumbled to keep up with him. Browser slammed down on the button, his nostrils flared. "Hello? Hello? This is the Follower we are—"

"No good," Chip replied from the other side. "I can't switch channels. The radios been tampered with. We can only get each other."

"_I know_!" Browser bellowed, his voice dark and strong and furious as a grizzly bear.

"The access codes!" Host called to him, from across the room, where she'd wandered to get away from his furiousness.

Browser pulled a folded piece of paper out from his shoe, looking at it with sudden sorrow.

"If they take us, they'll be able to hack your mind, get the codes out." Flash lifted her head, walking towards Browser.

"I haven't even glanced at it," Browser assured them, and he hadn't. Elise's eyes fell on the folded piece of paper with misery. "Don't need this anymore." He shrugged, tearing it to bits.

"That isn't going to keep the codes safe from them when they get us." Chip picked up the scraps, and, with grimace, dropped them in his mouth, and chewed the ancient paper. "Just don't tell me where it's been." He chewed the paper, swallowing hard with displeasure.

"You're sure you never looked at it?" Flash demanded, stepping towards Browser, Flash's hand touched the handle of the only gun they had, her eyes full of suspicion.

"He wouldn't lie to protect himself sacrificing the whole human race!" Elise snapped.

"We're all dead anyway, what does it matter?" Flash barked.

"Ladies!" Browser yelled, his voice echoing off the walls. "All that matters now is Zion. Host, Flash is right, it would be best if you k—"

"Browser!" She glared, rage concealing the despair that was coming. "So you want us to just fry you alive?"

"Zion's all that matters," Browser lowered his hands.

"You said you never even looked at the codes," Elise spat with venom. How could Browser be so…so…

Flash looked at their captain, who was staring intently at Elise. "That's right. I didn't."

"Good. Now we need to find some way out of this," Elise's voice became authoritative.

"EMP. We get to the center of Zero-One, and blow it—" Chip's voice was heroic, but Browser shook his head.

"It's been entirely disabled. This whole ship has been reengineered to trap people. I doubt there's even an EMP inside it," Browser's face was concentrated on being calm, but the fury in it was clear.

Elise kicked the wall again, pulling a pipe off the wall with an furious scream, feeling herself loose it. Falling on the ground she pulled at her hair. It had grown to mid-ear length. This was how it was going to end. If not by Agents, than by Sentinels. Elise didn't bother asking which was worse. Either way she was dead.

_I'm sorry Smith…I'm so sorry…_

In the background, Browser gave another groan of struggle as he tried to open up the door, Flash went for a run around the ship, looking for an escape, and found none. Every possible way out of the ship, that normal ships all had, had been reengineered by the Machines to fail. Chip was trying to get the Matrix feed back online to send a distress signal to the Nebechanezzer, but nothing would turn the monitors back on.

Elise didn't care if her "captain needed her" anymore. Captain of what? Of a ship designed to trap people and carry them to the heart of the Machine City to be slaughtered? Every emotion she'd kept inside her since she learned of the Matrix, every emotion that had been amplified since what had happened six days before poured out of her. The dam didn't burst, she just opened the floodgates, letting herself cry, which she had not done since the night she'd met Morpheus.

_Smith…James…Smith…Tina…Smith…Becky…Smith…Jessica…Smith…oh Smith…I'm going to die, Smith…I'm going to die…I'm going to die, Smith…and…I love you…I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Smith…_

…………………………………

_Two hours later_

……………………………

"Doesn't it just take your breath away?" Chip asked miserably, his beady eyes staring out the front window with a mixture of astonishment, wonder and horror.

"Not the term I would have used, but yeah." Elise stood next to him with Flash and Browser, staring down at the fields of humans. _Just as Morpheus described it._

In the distance, mountains, as bleak and barren as the rest of Earth, loomed ahead, behind which came the eerie glow only the Machines made. Zero-One.

As they neared the city, the sky filled with Sentinels, and Elise held her breath as they flew next to the ship, like an entourage.

The Follower, whose name meant something different entirely than what it did when it was built, lowered itself to the ground, in what would be the streets of Zero-One.

Instead of continuing in Zero-One, however, the Follower, and the Sentinels turned off, heading towards the edge of the Machine City.

"What do you think they're going to do to us?" Chip asked. He was less than eighteen years old. He was still a kid.

"Plug us back in, take us to the Agent's Headquarters and torture us until we're dead," Flash answered, her lips curling with disgust.

The Agent's Headquarters…

Elise turned away from the dismal picture in front of her, wanting to have some small amount of peace in her last moments. What if they were taken to the Agents in the Matrix? And…if the crew found out about her and… She didn't want the last memories of her to be distorted with hate, she didn't want them to know that she was so close to treason.

Would Smith be there? _No, because of you he's probably been deleted._ Which to the Machines would be just like killing him…

…………………………………

_Half an hour later_

……………………

The ship stopped, when the two great claws grabbed each side, exactly where the dents had been, lifting it to what looked like a dock, and the bottom creaked open.

Every sound, every noise, every pair of lungs and beating heart was amplified, breaking the deadly silence. The crew had taken refuge in the engine room, the most secure place they had.

The metal clopping of "feet" echoed like a warning through the metal belly of the Follower. The Machines were coming. They wouldn't send the Sentinels, they'd send the smaller robots, the ones people had created centuries before to look like people. It was disgusting.

The metal door had been locked and bolted from the inside, and the crew was huddle in the corner. Flash held the gun they'd brought from the Nebechanezzer, which was the only gun on board the ship, even though all of them were required to have at least one, if not two.

Browser was in front of Chip and Host, and next to Flash, to protect them.

The thumping of the AI's came closer…and closer…and closer…

Then a greater noise came, and a giant dent appeared in the door, making the crew flinch back…and another…and another…and another.

The door fell, and Flash fired the gun as the metallic bodies forced their way in. Browser's arms wound tighter around her and Chip, as Browser tried to kick away at one that leapt at Flash.

Elise felt that cold, twisting stab of pain in her stomach that was severe fear. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to wake up and realize everything, Morpheus, the Matrix, the Follower, Agent Smith, James, trying to make everything just a bad dream, trying to find home.

Flash shrieked as she was yanked away. Chip's cry came next, and her side was cold where he had been. She felt something like ice on her ankle, tugging her, but Browser held on, kicking at something, but then something came after him, and his warm arms fell away. The thing like ice came back, but now all over her, and she was pulled out, pulled somewhere. She wouldn't allow herself to open her eyes, praying it was a dream, a nightmare, the worst she'd ever had. But some nightmares you can't wake up from…

"This is the human?" a digital voice asked, a digital voice that sounded far too human.

"This is she. The Architect wants this one alive. The Source ordered us to be careful with this one."

……………………………………………

_Machine City, the far end_

……………………

The four of them were lined up on some metal platform. There forearms, and legs were being held by some metal claws, not allowing them to move. In front of them, was the Machine City, in all of its filthy glory.

"Which one of you is the captain of the ship the Follower?" a deep voice asked from somewhere.

The crew went silent.

Elise's vision was blurred, her mind unfocused and she felt a grim need to vomit, but the others looked much worse. Flash's legs were cut up and bleeding, Chip had been knocked unconscious when he hit his head against the metal wall, and Browser…Browser looked worse than death. Compared to the others, they had been very gentle with Elise.

But why would they want her?

"Which one of you is the captain of the ship the Follower?" the voice asked again from somewhere in the very blurry scene. Maybe it was shock causing Elise's eyes to haze over like that.

A surge of pain came from the metal bonds that held them, probably electricity.

"Which one of you is the captain of the ship the Follower?"

Again there was silence.

The dark form from which the voice must have been coming from sent a swarm of something that looked like giant flies to Elise's eyes, which swarmed around Chip, causing him to yelp in a guttural voice.

"Which one of you is the captain of the ship the Follower?"

The swarm spread out, coming over all of them, slicing at their flesh, as the surge came again.

Browser opened his mouth to say something, but Elise was faster. "I am!" she screamed, one of the giant flies cutting at the side of her head, millimeters from her temples. Her voice was much louder than she would have ever thought she could make it, especially under such pain.

"You're lying, human," the voice didn't change at all. "Do you know the access code to the Zion mainframe," the voice demanded, speaking to all of them now.

"No," each one of them answered in their own time, with encouragement of the tiny robots that sliced at their flesh.

"You speak the truth," the voice concluded.

Flash tried to speak, but some Machines, Elise couldn't be sure what they looked like or where they came from, but they came and took the crew, dragging their limp bodies off the metal platform.

Elise couldn't be sure exactly what happened after that, because everything went black, and the world faded into a gray mist, and all of the sounds disappeared into a steady beeping.

_Beep…beep…beep…beep…beep._

…………………………

_Two days later_

………………

_Beep…beep…beep…beep._A digital noise kept rythme, steady, and annoying as an alarm clock.

Elise's eyes were heavy, and she wanted to sleep. Whatever this soft thing was, it was nice…and warm. There was a light on the other side of her eyelids, something bright, and warm. The sun?

Her body ached, and she slowly became aware of things stuck into her.

With a groan of pain she opened her eyes, blinking in the sunlight, pouring through the window.

Rubbing her eyes, she realized there were IV's connected to her arms, and the beeping was a heart rate monitor. A hospital?

The walls of the room were pale blue, and what she lay in was a bed. Somehow her rags had disappeared and she was wearing a hospital gown instead.

The foggy feeling in her head must have been pain killers, but she was able to think clearly enough to know this wasn't good. There was nothing like this in the real world, and the sun was outside.

_Oh no_… Elise's heart started off sprinting as she became aware of what had happened. Desperately, she tried to pull the IV's out, trying to get out of this hospital bed, when someone stopped her. Two arms, one on either side, belonging to two different people, pulled her back down against the bed.

"Stay still, Miss Roberts," one of the men ordered.

Elise's head rose to see Jones, his face expressionless, standing over her. The other "man" was Brown, and both had their guns.

Elise's mind raced with every curse word she knew repeated over and over on top of each other set to music and screamed out internally.

"You aren't well," Brown added.

Elise suddenly felt very sick and very speechless. If she was here, where were the others?

"The others have been reinserted as cripples." Jones read her mind.

"They remember nothing," Brown said over the end of Jones's words.

"They can hardly speak," Jones turned his head slightly to the side, intimidating Elise, and making her pull the thin hospital blankets up higher despite herself.

"As you will he finishes his questions," Brown assured her.

"He wants you to be healthy by then, so it would be in your best interest if you did not attempt to run, as we would have to take certain measures into hand," Jones threatened.

"Run?" a dry chuckle sounded from somewhere behind Jones…a dry chuckle that made her heart stop and nearly pound out of her chest. "There is no way out of this building until the Architect says you can go, and he will say you can go when you give him what he wants."

"Smith?" Elise knew that was impossible…but she'd know that voice anywhere. Maybe it was the painkillers, affecting her process.

"Yes," a different voice answered, seemingly amused. A man, with a white beard, a white suit, white shoes and a very pale face stepped through the door. "But don't waste your time, Miss Roberts. The virus has been eliminated."

"…What?"

"His memory's been wiped clean, but that's a different matter." The man took a seat in the chair by the hospital bed, a plain white leather arm chair, and picked up a small clipboard. "Leave us," he ordered, his eyes focused on the clipboard. The Agents she could see, Jones and Brown nodded, seeming to drift to the door, instead of walking. They were followed by another, who had to be Smith, but Elise couldn't see his face, and he didn't turn to look back. Why wouldn't he just look at her?!

"Smith!" she yelled, but none of the figures even hesitated as they left the room. "Damn it, Smith! _Smith_!" Elise screamed as the door closed behind the Agents.

"He doesn't remember, I told you." The man was still examining his clipboard, testing out the ink of a pen on the paper, his voice monotone, but mocking.

"What?!" Elise snapped.

"I told you, Miss Roberts, Agent Smith doesn't remember a thing about you." The Architect smiled a smug smirking smile that made Elise want to rip his throat out. It was such a nice thought, she tried it, lunging forward, but found she was attached the hospital bed by some belt around her waste.

The Architect raised an eyebrow at her, and pressed a small button on the side of her bed, sending some silver liquid through the IV's into her blood, giving her a sudden blurry feeling, making her whole body go numb.

"Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

……………………………

_The next day_

…………………

The Architect stood before a white board, watching the inward workings of his mind play out on it. The equation didn't make sense, it just didn't add up. There was a missing factor in it, but no matter how many times he questioned the human, he couldn't find a plausible answer. It didn't make any sense!

For a program to behave in such a human matter was unheard of! It didn't make sense.

The Architect became very frustrated, infuriated by the idea of his grand master piece being defeated by a simple human woman! It was impossible!

When he'd finished his questions with her, coming up with nothing, he had done to her what he'd done to the other three in the ship they'd captured. He'd reinserted her into the Matrix without any memory of what had happened. She'd stumbled back into her life, the way it'd been before she'd heard of the Matrix, everyone believing she'd just had an incredibly powerful case of amnesia.

At least it had all come right. Smith was back to normal, and the human's knowledge of the Matrix had been sucked away, deleted from her mind as easily as if she were a program herself.

But it didn't add up! He couldn't leave the problem unfinished! It was impossible to leave it undone like this!

The Architect went over the equation again and again and again and came up with "x = ?" every single time. He couldn't find the missing equation. It was hopeless.

_At least the human will never again pose a threat to the Matrix. Even her insolent "friends" have no memory of Smith…but how…? How is it possible?_

………………………………………………

_Somewhere in the city_

…………………………………

"_Amnesia_?!" Mr. Dutton barked, his voice as angry as ever.

Elise nodded, handing him the notice from the doctor. One day she'd fallen asleep, the next thing she knew, she was in a Kaiser Hospital, with nurses and doctors buzzing around her, talking about massive brain injuries that had caused her to fall into a coma for almost three months.

It didn't make sense…she remembered everything perfectly before her accident (falling from an open window), but afterwards…it was a blank. No, not entirely perfect, there was a giant part missing…something to do with her deceased husband was gone…all the details of his death were foggy in her mind, but Tina assured her that they'd caught the killer, a man named Ralph, who denied ever even knowing James.

"I'm sorry sir, I—" Elise tried to speak to her boss.

"_Get back to work, Roberts_!" he bellowed.

…………………………

_Across the city_

……………

Humans.

How he hated them.

Their stench seemed to stick to everything.

That odor. That horrible smell he couldn't free himself from.

Even here, surrounded by other Agents, the smell lingered. Like germs. Mimicking the parasites they came from.

Humans.

Agent Smith hated them. Every one of them was disgusting and worthless.

………………………………

_The next day_

…………………

Agent Smith didn't like the way the others were acting around him. It was unnatural. They acted as if he were diseased, avoiding him as often as he could.

He preferred to be alone. He was faster alone. He was much more efficient that way.

It was a day in early spring. The Resistance were being quiet again, which annoyed him thoroughly, so he went out to find something to do, whether it was against protocol or not.

Instead of taking the Audi, which he knew, for some reason, was bugged, though he couldn't imagine why they'd bug _his_ car, as if he ever did anything _wrong_, he decided to walk among the filthy parasites instead.

It was still chilly in the Matrix, so there were less of them around.

He came to a park, his eyes scanning the place for possible criminals to destroy, but found nothing.

The park was what separated the human city's "rich" side from the "poor" side, and so there was always a good chance of muggers to kill, so he walked along the path, his eyes darting around the empty place with a hunger.

As he came around a corner, out of a grove of trees, his eyes found a figure on a bench, a woman, watching the bird programs.

…That was strange…there was something about the woman…he didn't know what it was, but something about her reddish brown hair made him slow his pace.

The woman raised her head as he passed, eyeing her, but when he saw her look back at him, he stopped entirely, furrowing his brow at the look.

The woman looked almost lost when she looked at him, with an almost childlike wonder. "Excuse me, sir," the woman rose from her seat, "but, don't I know you?"

Agent Smith didn't know what told him to, but slowly, as the woman took a step towards him, he removed his sunglasses with his usual inhuman grace.

Green eyes looked into blue eyes, and they knew the other remembered everything. A thousand thoughts went through both minds, with enough force to knock most people off their feet. Like watching their lives flash before their eyes, they remembered.

"No. No you don't, Elise Roberts."

...........................

THE END

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